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William L. Lancer 
Hmva\d Umveistty 


Edited by William L. Langer 



1814 - 1832 



Oberlin College 





Copyright, 1934, by Harper & Brothers 
Printed in the United States of America 
All rights in this book are reserved . 

No pert of the text may be reproduced in any 
manner whatsoever tint ho at written permis- 
sion. For information address 
Hut pet & Brothers 






Chapter 1 

Chapter 11 

Chapter 111 

Chapter IV 

Chapter V 

Chapter VI 

Introduction xi 

Preface xiii 

European Society After the Napoleonic Wars: 

The Throne and the Altar i 

I The Monarchs, the Statesmen, and the Aristocracies; II The 
Churches and the Clergy. 

European Society After the Napoleonic Wars: 

The Middle Class and the Peasants 23 

I The Upper Bourgeoisie and Industrial Change; II The Lower 
Middle Class and the Rise o£ an Industrial Proletariat; III The 
Peasants; IV Conclusion. 

The Search for a Principle of Authority 49 

I The Reaction Against the Enlightenment; Pietism, Methodism, 
and Romanticism; II The Appeal to Tradition; III Reconstruc- 
tion in German Idealism: from Kant to Hegel. 

The Creeds of Liberalism 82 

I The Principle of Utility; II Laissez-faire Economics and the 
Bourgeois State; III Constitutionalism; IV Anti-clericalism 
and State Education; V Aspirations for National Unity and 

The First Years of Peace, 1815-1820 no 

I The Settlement of 1815; II The Reaction in England; III The 
Return to Bourbon Rule in France and Spain; IV The Haps- 
burg Domination in Middle Europe: The Austrian Empire and 
the Germanic Confederation; V The Hapsburg Domination in. 
Middle Europe: The Italian States. 

The Crisis of 1820 149 

I The Outbreak of Revolutionary Disturbances, 1820-1822; II 
The European Alliance and the Crushmg of the Revolutions, 
1818-1823; III The Twilight of Alexander’s Liberalism and 


the Decembrist Revolt, 1815-1826; IV The First Revolutionary 
Wave of the Nineteenth Centur> — a Failure. 

Chapter Vll The Rise of a New Generation 1S4 

I The Beginnings of Nineteenth-Century Science and Scholar- 
ship; II A New Romantic Generation in Literature and the Arts; 

III The Revival of Liberalism; IV The Rise of Socialism. 

Chapter VIII The Disintegration of the Restoration, 1820-1830 215 

I The Decline of Tory Domination in England; II The Growing 
Estrangement between the Monarchy and the Nation in France; 

III The Undermining of Hapsburg Power in Middle Europe; 

IV The Decay of the Ottoman Empire and the Winning of 
Serbian and Greek Independence. 

Chapter IX The Revolutionary Movements of 1830 263 

I The July Revolution in France; II The Belgian Revolution; 

III Revolutionary Disturbances in Middle and Southern Europe; 

IV The Passing of the Reform Bill in England; V Conclusion. 

Bibliographical Notes (Revised) 295 

Index 320 

Map — Europe in 1815 xvi 


The illustrations , grouped in a separate section , will be found following page ly 6 

1. Travel by Stage-Coach in the Early Nineteenth Century 

2. Liverpool and Manchester Railway, 1831. The Station Where 
Huskisson Was Killed 

3. London Stock Exchange 

4. Machines for Printing Cotton Cloth 

5. The Congress of Vienna by Isabey 

6. Talleyrand 

7. Alexander I 

8. Metternich by Lawrence 

9. Castlereagh by Lawrence 

10. Baroness von Krudener 

11. Louis XVIII by Gerard 

12. Francis I of Austria by Lawrence 

13. France Reviving the Bourbon Lilies (Turning Her Back on 
Napoleon and Military Glory) 

14. Karl Ludwig Sand 

15. Caricature of the Carlsbad Decrees, 1819 

16. Early Nineteenth Century Laboratory 

17. Lenoir’s Museum of Mediaeval and Renaissance Art — Paris 

18. The Grimm Brothers 

19. Goethe in His Later Years 

20. Walter Scott by David Wilbje 

21. First Performance of Hugo’s “Hernani” 

22. The Cottage by Constable 

23. The Bay of Baiae by Turner 

24. When the Morning Stars Sang Together by Bla\e 

25. The Oath of the Horatii by David 

26. The Raft of the Medusa by Gericault 

27. The Massacre of Chios by Delacroix , Salon of 1824 

28. The Vow of Louis XIII by Ingres, Salon of 1824 




29. Faust and Mephisto by Delacroix 

30. German Nazarene School by Carolsfeld 

31. Neubrandenburg at Sundown by Friedrich 

32. Paris by Canova 

33. Classical Revival — Church of San Francesco di Paola at Naples 

34. Classical Revival — Propylaea, Munich by von Klenze 

35. Gothic Revival — Clock 

36. Gothic Revival — “A Villa in the Thirteenth Century Style” 

37. Charles Fourier 

38. Idealized View, Owenite Community — 1823 

39. Lamennais — 1818 

40. Friedrich List 

41. Hegel in His Study — 1828 

42. Caricature of Louis XVIII’s Intervention in Spain — 1823 

43. Coronation of Charles X in the Cathedral of Rheims 

44. George Canning by Lawrence 

45. Flag Presented to the Polish Revolutionaries of 1830 by the 
Young Men of Boston 

46. Liberty Guiding the People in 1830 by Delacroix 

47. Revolution of 1830 in Paris 

48. Coronation of Otto I in Athens 


Our age of specialization produces an almost incredible amount 
of monographic research in all fields of human knowledge. So great 
is the mass of this material that even the professional scholar 
cannot keep abreast of the contributions in anything but a re- 
stricted part of his general subject. In all branches of learning the 
need for intelligent synthesis is now more urgent than ever before, 
and this need is felt by the layman even more acutely than by 
the scholar. He cannot hope to read the products of microscopic 
research or to keep up with the changing interpretations of ex- 
perts, unless new knowledge and new viewpoints are made acces- 
sible to him by those who make it their business to be informed 
and who are competent to speak with authority. 

These volumes, published under the general title of The Rise of 
Modern Europe , are designed primarily to give the general reader 
and student a reliable survey of European history written by ex- 
perts in various branches of that vast subject. In consonance with 
the current broad conceptions of the scope of history, they attempt 
to go beyond a merely political-military narrative, and to lay stress 
upon social, economic, religious, scientific and artistic develop- 
ments. The minutely detailed, chronological approach is to some 
extent sacrificed in the effort to emphasize the dominant factors 
and to set forth their interrelationships. At the same time the 
division of European history into national histories has been aban- 
doned and wherever possible attention has been focussed upon 
larger forces common to the whole of European civilization. These 
are the broad lines on which this history as a whole has been laid 
out. The individual volumes are integral parts of the larger scheme, 
but they are intended also to stand as independent units, each the 
work of a scholar well qualified to treat the period covered by his 
book. Each volume contains about fifty illustrations selected from 
the mass of contemporary pictorial material. All non-contemporary 
illustrations have been excluded on principle. The bibliographical 



note appended to each volume is designed to facilitate further 
study of special aspects touched upon in the text. In general every 
effort has been made to give the reader a clear idea of the mam 
movements in European history, to embody the monographic con- 
tributions of research workers, and to present the material m a 
forceful and vivid manner. 

The present volume deals with a much neglected part of Euro- 
pean history, the aftermath of the Napoleonic period. It is not an 
age of spectacular personalities or great international conflicts, but 
Professor Artz, who is the author of a study of France under the 
Bourbon Restoration , shows very clearly the deeper significance of 
European development from the abdication of Napoleon to the 
passage of the first Reform Bill in England. Prefacing his narra- 
tive with a survey of conditions after twenty-five years of almost 
uninterrupted war, he analyzes the great conflict of interests and 
principles between the old privileged orders and the rising middle 
classes. The study of the reaction in the first five years of the 
period is succeeded by an account of the abortive revolutionary 
movements of 1820 and the following years, while the latter part 
of the book is devoted to the new generation of liberalism, its out- 
look and organization, and its victory in western Europe in the 
movements of 1830-1832. Particular emphasis is placed through- 
out on the general European character of the issues fought out in 
these years, and to the reflection of conflicting viewpoints in re- 
ligion, literature and art. 

William L. Langer 


Back of this book lie certain assumptions. Among these is my 
Liberal point of view, which I have tried to minimize but which 
I have not attempted to conceal. Moreover, I am of the conviction 
that the most significant political, social, and intellectual movements 
of the nineteenth century took place in the period 1815 to 1870. 
I am also of the opinion that there was in the nineteenth century, 
as in earlier ages, a general European civilization and that the time 
has come when the history of this period should be conceived 
from a non-national point of view. Finally, the whole structure of 
the book rests on the assumption that the widening influence of 
English institutions and inventions, and of the French conceptions 
of liberty and equality, on the feudal and agricultural states of Europe 
constitutes the basis of nineteenth-century history. With this in mind, 
the reader may the more easily understand what I have undertaken 
to do, 

I am deeply indebted for help to a large number of my friends; 
especially to William L. Langer, Georges Weill, Kent R. Green- 
field, Crane Brinton, A. P. Usher, M. M. Karpovich, E. J. Knapton, 
Oscar Jaszi, H. D. Jordan, H. J. Marks, and F. E. Manuel. W. B. 
Briggs, R. H. Haynes, Julian S. Fowler and the staffs of the Har- 
vard and Oberlin Libraries have greatly facilitated my labors. 
Genevieve Brandt and Warren Taylor helped to prepare the manu- 
script for the press; E. J. Knapton read the proofs. 

Frederick B. Artz 

April 1, 1934 



Changes have been made in the text and bibliographies in the second, 
third, fifth, and, now, in the sixth printing. The bibliographical material 
in the footnotes is intended to supplement the Bibliographical Notes at 
the end of the book. In this sixth printing, a Supplementary Bibliograph- 
ical Note appears for the first time. 

Frederick B. Artz 

January, 194.J 


The Supplementary Bibliographical Note that first appeared in the sixth 
printing has been completely rewritten and a few changes have been 
made in the main Bibliographical Notes, and in the text. 

Frederick B. Artz 

October, 1950 
Oberlin, Ohio 


The Supplementary Bibliographical Note has here been revised and 

Frederick B. Artz 

Easter, 1953 
Oberlin, Ohio 


A second Supplementary Bibliographical Note has been added, and a 
few changes have been made in the text. 

Frederick B. Artz 

February 1, 1957 
Oberlin, Ohio 


A third Supplementary Bibliographical Note has been added. 

Frederick B. Artz 

June 1, 1939 
Oberlin, Ohio 



Chapter One 



A French Cartoon of 1815 shows an eagle leaving the Tuileries 
and five geese waddling in. The flight of Napoleon and the return 
of the Bourbons to the palace of their ancestors were symbolic of 
the great changes that were taking place from one end of Europe 
to the other during the years 1814 and 1815, and to a war-weary 
generation they were proof enough that the French Revolution had 
come to an end. During a quarter of a century, amidst revolu- 
tionary conquests and political and economic reconstruction, an 
ancient society had been dissolved into its constituent elements. Old 
feudal, industrial, political, and ecclesiastical bonds had been 
loosened or completely severed. A new society was everywhere in 
process of formation, when suddenly the downfall of the Napoleonic 
empire threw the political, and to some extent the social and ea> 
nomic, control back into the hands of the governing classes of the 
Ancien Regime. The Restoration thus represents one of the most 
striking reversals in modern history. 

The return of the monarchs was due to the general exhaustion 
and the widespread desire for peace. Everywhere from the Neva 
to the Seine, and from the Tagus to Stockholm the horror of war 
and the growing economic anarchy had led to the belief that peace 
and order were worth having at any price. The streets of Paris in 
1814 and again in 1815 echoed to the cry of Vive la paix\ far more 
frequently than to that of Vive les Bourbonsl The return of royal 
authority seems to have been accepted with indifference by every- 
one, except small groups who either through deep conviction or 
through interest were ardently hostile or rapturously enthusiastic. 
The continuance of the new order, however, would inevitably 




depend on the capacity of the monarchy the aristocracies, and the 
higher clergy whom the wheel of fortune was again bringing into 
power. A study of their ideas and policies shows that exile and 
suffering had not made many of them the wiser. 

Of the monarchs who had witnessed the revolution without losing 
their thrones, the most influential in general European affairs 
was Alexander I of Russia. He was aware of the significance of 
the revolutionary era, and his project of 1804 for a European con- 
federation undoubtedly represented one of the most original and 
constructive political ideas of his generation. His conceit and emo- 
tional unsteadiness, however, played havoc with the fulfillment 
of his program, and, able though he was, he proved to be a false 
Messiah. The King of Prussia and the Emperor of Austria were 
less competent and at the same time far less aware of the real 
forces in the world about them than had been a number of their 
more able and more enlightened predecessors in the eighteenth cen- 
tury. In England the regent, who in 1820 became George IV, was 
a man whose mediocre intelligence and scandalous private life had 
shorn him of all prestige. 

Of the monarchs who had suffered exile, all except Louis XVIII 
of France returned embittered and resentful. The Spanish king, 
Ferdinand VII, was a stupid reactionary who had occupied himself 
in exile with embroidering a robe for the Virgin of a pilgrimage 
shrine. None of the rulers of the petty states of Italy and Germany 
except Goethe’s patron, the Duke of Saxe-Weimar, seems to have 
possessed any real capacity for governing in such trying times. 
Ignorant of the society in which they were living, and with fan- 
tastic lack of judgment, they busied themselves with matters of 
court etiquette, and, like the King of Piedmont, vented their rage 
on the immediate past by uprooting the French plants in their 
botanical gardens, and throwing the French furniture out of their 
palaces. 1 Their governments they turned over to their confessors 
/and their executioners. By contrast, Louis XVIII of France stands 

1 Typical of the ideas of the monarchs of the time is the following statement of 
Charles Felix of Savoy, “At the beginning of my reign (1820) everything was a mystery 
to me. I did not know what to write or what to answer. Then I made the sign of the 
cross, recommended myself to the adorable Trinity, and God willed that my decisions 
should be worthy of a Christian prince.*’ F. Lemmi, Carlo Fehce (Turin, 1931), 165 



out as the shrewdest royal statesman among the rulers of his gen- 
eration. His unerring tact des chases possibles, expressed in his dic- 
tum of “nationalizing the monarchy and of royalizmg the nation,” 
and his success in achieving at least a part of this program led 
Gambetta to say later that he was “the greatest French king since 
Henry IV.” 

In most states the rulers surrounded themselves with very con- 
servative advisers. The pattern of the perfect statesman of the ab- 
solutist governments was Prince Metternich, the Austrian minister 
for foreign affairs, and later chancellor. Admired by the conserva- 
tives of all Europe as an infallible oracle, and hated by the liberals 
as the incarnation of the spirit of obscurantism, he hardly merited 
either estimate. The key to his policy is found in a remark made 
by Castlereagh in 1814: “Austria, both in army and government, 
is a timid power; her minister is continually temporizing.” 2 Metter- 
nich’s policy of stability was inspired primarily by the peculiar 
nature of the Austrian monarchy. While he dressed out the needs 
of his Hapsburg masters in the elaborate phraseology of legitimacy 
and in talk about “the support of the moral order,” it was quite 
evident that he was directing the destinies of an empire that was 
merely a governmental machine without any genuine national 
basis. The mere introduction of democratic or nationalist ideas any- 
where in Europe could easily stir up disruptive movements in this 
strange conglomerate of half the races and religions of Europe that 
was Austria. Hence, revolutionary ideas in speeches, books, or news- 
papers frightened Metternich, even if they appeared as far away 
as Spain, Sweden, or Sicily. His personal convictions, formed during 
the French Revolution, led him to believe that political and social 
changes could be effected only by gradual evolution and in accord- 
ance with historical tradition. He had little sympathy for, or under- 
standing of, the aspirations of the middle and lower classes, but 
he saw that the upper bourgeoisie, posing as “the people,” were 
often narrow and selfish in their aims and were bent chiefly upon 
usurping the position and privileges of the ruling aristocracy. After 
1815 Metternich’s extraordinary diplomatic skill enabled him to erect 
a complete system of European conservatism in harmony with his 

3 C. K. Webster, The Foreign Policy of Castlereagh 1812-1815 (London, 1931), 318, 



own convictions and in consonance with the peculiar needs of the 
Hapsburg monarchy. 3 

In Spain, and in the small Italian and German states, the leading 
ministers tried to pattern their policies upon those of Metternich, 
but none of these statesmen showed anything approaching the 
ability of their Austrian model. In the Chartreuse de Par me Stend- 
hal, characterizing this type, spoke of the perfect courtier as a man 
without either honor or humor. The hero of the novel, Fabrizio, 
found himself suspected of liberal leanings. To clear himself he had 
to be sure “to go to mass every day, to choose as his confessor some 
man devoted to the monarchy; . . . secondly he was not to consort 
with any man who had the reputation of being clever, and when 
occasion offered, he was to speak of rebellion with horror; he was 
never to be seen in a cafe; ... he was to express dislike of reading 
in general, and he was never to peruse any works printed later 
than 1720, the only possible exception being Scott’s novels; and 
lastly, he must not fail to pay open court to some pretty woman 
in the district, which would prove that he had none of the gloomy 
and discontented spirit of the conspirator. . . . For the rest, he must 
be simple — no wit, no brilliancy, no swift repartee.” After this 
description of the man, Stendhal proceeds to discuss his policy: 
“Everything which has been done since the death of Louis XIV 
in 1715 is at once a folly and a crime. Man’s foremost interest must 
be his own salvation — there cannot be two opinions on that score. 
The words liberty , justice , and happiness of the greatest number 
are criminal; they give men’s minds a habit of discussion. Man 
ends by distrusting the commands of the Church and the authority 
of the princes set up by God.” 4 

The statesmen of the period in England were mostly mediocre 
men, though Castlereagh and, after 1822, some of the younger 

3 The learned biocraohy of Metternich by Heinrich Ritter von Srbik, Metternich , 
der Staatstnatm urd drr Men tch ( 2 vols , Munich, 1925) has led to a far-reachmg re- 
vision of historical opinion The book was bitterly attacked by Viktor Bibl, Metternich in 
neuer Beleuchtung (Vienna, 1928), and questioned by Eduard von Wertheimer, “Gibt es 
einen neuen Metternich ?” Forschungen cur brandenburgtsclien und preussischen Gc- 
schichte, XXXVIII, 1926, pp. 339-367. but has been generally supported by scholars 
like Arnold O. Meyer, “Furst Metternich” Archiv fur Pohtik und Geschichte , II, 
Vierteljahrschrift, XXIV (1928), 443-483, H. du Coudiay, Metternich (New Haven, 
1936), and de Grunwald, Metternich (Pans, 1939), 4 Stendhal, Le Chartreuse de Farms , 
shs. v and vii. 


Tories were leaders of great capacity. Lord Liverpool, the Prime 
Minister, was a characteristically obstinate though good-humored 
conservative who knew how to turn the displeasure of the public 
against his colleagues. In the eyes of the Liberals the personification 
of the Tory statesman was not the able Castlereagh, although he 
was far more hated than he deserved to be, but Lords Eldon and 
Sidmouth. In Eldon’s opinion — and he was much given to making 
pronouncements — the man who wanted to do away with any an- 
cient privilege was laying his hands on the sacred constitution; 
yet, as he showed in his support of the Six Acts (1819), no one 
was more ready than he to set aside this constitution. Castlereagh 
and the Duke of Wellington among the older Tory leaders, and 
among the younger group, Canning, Huskisson, and Peel, who 
were willing to compromise with the business interests in England, 
showed that a conservative policy did not need to be a reactionary 

The ablest statesmen of the restoration in France were the Due 
de Richelieu, Decazes, and Villele. The Due de Richelieu and 
Decazes worked with Louis XVIII to steer a middle course between 
reaction and revolution, but the steady pressure exerted by the king’s 
brother, the Comte d’ Artois, drove them from power. Villele was 
an able financier, but in other fields of domestic policy he was under 
the influence of the reactionary party and, after 1824, of Artois, now 
become Charles X. It was only with the Prince de Polignac, the 
last head of the ministry before the revolution of 1830, that Charles 
could fully agree. Polignac was a strange visionary — a Spanish, or 
Russian type of statesman — who found in apparitions of the Virgin 
assurance that he was right in issuing the July Ordinances. 

In Prussia and Russia the monarchs year by year chose more re- 
actionary ministers. The King of Prussia, instead of listening to 
Stein and Hardenberg, took advice from men like Wittgenstein 
and Schmalz. The Russian tsar’s earlier liberalism had led him to 
select as ministers the liberal Speransky and Czartoryski. Later they 
were set aside, and by the end of his reign (1825) Alexander had 
placed in power dark reactionaries like the priest Photius, and the 
brutal Count Arakcheiev. It was useless to complain of such men, 
whose irresponsible abuse of authority irritated and alarmed even 


the loyal supporters of the monarchy, for neither Frederick William 
III nor Alexander I would believe any charges against their favor- 
ites. The idea of governing held by the majority of the statesmen 
of the time was well expressed by Metternich, who once remarked, 
“it is only necessary to place four energetic men, who know what 
they want and are agreed on the manner of carrying out their 
wishes, in the four corners of Europe. Let them raise their voices 
and their arms at the same moment and the whole agitation van- 
ishes like so much smoke.” 5 

During the Napoleonic era, the development of the secret police — 
often combined with the use of agents provocateurs — and of cen- 
, tralized bureaucracies greatly increased the power of the monarchs. 
Moreover, after 1815 many of the administrators were ex-officers 
who brought the severity and the summary methods of army rule 
into civilian life. Only rarely had the governments of the Ancien 
Regime known how to keep themselves well informed of what 
went on within their borders. But in the early nineteenth century 
the records of the police in every country contained detailed in- 
formation about all important persons, not only in the capital, but 
even in the smaller towns. Letters were opened, in Austria even the 
correspondence of Gentz, who stood highest in Metternich’s con- 
fidence, was tampered with. Conversations at table were reported, 
and travelers were shadowed. This extended activity of the secret 
police forms one of the most characteristic features of the period 
after Waterloo; the archives of every European capital contain hun- 
dreds of dossiers of their reports. 

The surviving administrative personnel of the Ancien Regime 
returned in some numbers from hiding or exile to their old positions. 
In France, for example, many of the prefects of the period were old 
emigres . These officials hated many of the new laws and institutions 
that had come into force since 1789 and they often did everything 
possible to interfere with their functioning. The revolution had 
cleared away many old administrative anomalies, and in every state 
the government now had a better control over law-enforcement and 

e Chateaubriand, in his Monarchic selon la charts (1816), 16, set forth the same idea, 
“ A bishop, an army commander, a prefect, a police commandant; if these are for God 
and the King X will answer for the rest!” 


taxation. All governments were furnished with the indispensable 
apparatus, often lacking in the eighteenth century, for all kinds 
of repressive measures. The policies devised by Mettermch and his 
contemporaries for the internal control of the various European 
states represent, then, not only a changed administrative outlook 
but a greatly increased administrative power. Back of all this spying 
and despotic control was plain fear, the dread that the horrors of 
the revolution would suddenly begin again. Employers were afraid 
of their workmen, the nobles were afraid of the peasants and of the 
middle class, the governments acted as though they were afraid of 
everyone. Statesmen opposed all change lest it release unknown and 
destructive forces. Borne satirized this fear and the behavior of the 
governments: “When the world catches fire and the fat begins to 
melt off the upper classes, the police will make the announcement, 
£ Alarmists have spread the rumor that the world is overheated. This 
is an insidious fabrication. The weather was never cooler or finer. 
All people are cautioned against making ill-considered remarks and 
lounging about the streets. Parents should keep their children, 
teachers their pupils, and employers their workmen off the streets. 
Keep the peace . To \eep the peace is the citizen’s first duty!’ 

The tone of society, as before the revolution, was set by the kings 
and their courts. The upstarts who had flourished in the entourage 
of the Napoleonic rulers were now rudely thrust aside and their 
places given to aristocrats of ancient lineage. I11 states like England, 
Russia, and Austria, which Napoleon had never been able to annex, 
there was less of an upset. But in all countries, whatever was of long 
and established standing enjoyed after 1815 a social prestige which 
the eighteenth century would have found difficult to understand. 
An ancient title was, more than ever before, the surest guarantee of 
favor at court or of a position in the army, the navy, the administra- 
tive personnel, or the established church. 

England possessed the most enlightened nobility and the one 
most experienced in governing. Unlike the continental aristocracies 
it was not a closed caste, for its members did not refuse to intermarry 
with the banking and commercial classes. For generations it had 
found the joint-stock company an admirable device for the associa- 

°J. Legge, Rhyme and Revolution tn Germany 1813-1850 (London, 1918), 57. 



tion of blood with brains. This social mobility, together with the 
custom of ennobling the wealthiest leaders of the mercantile class, 
had kept the English aristocracy in close contact with the life of the 
nation. The highest nobility sat in Parliament or devoted itself to 
the diplomatic service. The lesser aristocracy policed and ruled the 
countryside, managed parliamentary elections, and supplied the 
army, the navy, and the church with its leaders. As a class it was 
accustomed to traveling and to taking an interest in public affairs. 
The large libraries collected by some of these lords were apparently 
not left unread if we may judge by the copious fragments of Virgil, 
Horace, Shakespeare, and Milton which they deftly hurled at each 
others’ heads in Parliament and with which they adorned their cor- 
respondence. The Continental Blockade had raised the price of 
cereals, and, together with the spread of improved agricultural 
methods had doubled the rents of landowners in the three decades 
between 1790 and 1820. Benighted as they seemed to the radicals of 
the time, in their knowledge of public affairs and in their sense of 
public responsibility the English aristocracy was the most active 
and alert in Europe. 

On the continent, the nobles had by the eighteenth century lost 
many of the political powers they had once possessed. This was es- 
pecially true in France and in the petty despotisms of Italy and Ger- 
many, where the aristocracy usually knew little of foreign affairs or 
of the developing world of trade. During the Revolution many of 
them had been separated from their homes by years of war and 
emigration. After 1815 there were not a few in France, Italy, and 
Germany who foolishly believed they had been called back in a 
passion of national repentance. They returned hating the revolu- 
tionary principle, though rarely understanding it. 

In all countries the greatest noble families formed a class apart. 
They usually maintained residences in the capital and often inter- 
married with the upper aristocracy of another capital. Since on the 
continent their language and their culture were largely French, 
they formed something of an international caste. It was among these 
families, rather than among the country gentry, that the greatest in- 
terest in politics and in literature was to be found. Everywhere 
the nobles lived much as they had before the revolution. Not 


even in England was the primacy of the aristocracy in society chal- 
lenged. James Fenimore Cooper discovered that in London no 
bourgeois plutocrat would have thought of trying to build a town 
house on a scale grander than that of the great mansions of the 
nobility. The priest, the parson or the pastor, and the dancing 
master still directed the education of the children. The boys looked 
forward to a career in the army or the church and the daughters 
waited for their parents to find husbands for them. In parts of 
Europe a redistribution of property had reduced the income of the 
aristocracy, but even in France, where the revolution had wrought 
the greatest changes, the nobles who had survived the upheaval 
were usually able to return to their old ways of living. In East 
Prussia, in Russia and in other parts of central and eastern Europe, 
the aristocracy discharged many of the political duties which the 
possession of their large estates entailed. They lived like great feudal 
lords, administering law and preserving a prestige which the mon- 
archy had never dared attack. The Spanish aristocracy was con- 
sidered the proudest in Europe and the Russian the most prodigal, 
the most ignorant, and the most brutal. 7 

Although the social status of the noble class had been little affected 
by the revolution, the temper of the aristocratic salons of Paris, Rome, 
Vienna, and the other capitals after 1815 showed clearly that the 
revolutionary era had profoundly modified their attitude and out- 
look. Piety and a fear of all innovations had largely replaced the 
frivolity, the wit, and the love of bold ideas which characterized 
the salons of the Enlightenment. Many nobles joined the religious 
societies for laymen which sprang up in both Catholic and Protestant 
countries. An obscurantism that could never have flourished in the 
days of Voltaire seized many members of the aristocracy and gave 
a strange tone to the higher circles of society. One eighteenth-century 
trait remained, however — a literary, artistic, or musical reputation 
was still as effective an entree to a salon as a dukedom. The Ameri- 
cans, Washington Irving, Ticknor, Edward Everett, and Cooper, 
were accepted in the best circles of aristocratic society, often with the 
most haphazard of introductions. 

7 Pushkin’s father was a characteristic Russian noble of the time. Living 1 all his life 
in a house half ‘furnished and half-empty, fond of entertaining and of reading French 
novels, he squandered a large fortune. Cf. descnptions of nobles m Gogol’s Dead Souls. 



A few aristocratic families in every country maintained a liberal 
point of view. This was strikingly true of England where many 
nobles were attached to the traditions of Whiggism. In France some 
representatives of the highest nobility, like the Broglies, took an 
active part in liberal movements, and generally maintained close re- 
lations with the Whig aristocracy of England . 8 But the opposition 
of many aristocrats m Italy, Poland, and Belgium to the existing 
regime arose from hatred of foreign rule rather than from dislike 
of conservative or undemocratic policies. Military campaigns and 
diplomatic missions had for the first time brought large numbers 
of Polish, Hungarian, and Russian nobles into contact with the 
society of western Europe, and some of them, on their return, 
formed small groups which began to agitate for reform and for 
the introduction of western institutions. 

These striking exceptions, however, do not essentially modify the 
fact that the monarchs and the aristocracies of Europe were more in 
agreement than they had been in earlier centuries. Years of disaster 
had brought them together, and by 1815 both had joined the clergy 
to combat the ravages of revolutionary change. The old struggles 
between the monarchy and the aristocracy, like the Fronde in France, 
and the old differences between the monarchy and the church, like 
the Gallican and Febronian controversies, were now forgotten in a 
new alliance of the throne and the altar. For good or for ill, Europe 
in 1815 was in the control of kings, nobles, and priests as It had 
not been since the Age of Louis XIV. 


No institutions had suffered more from the influence of the En- 
lightenment than the churches in both Protestant and Catholic 
countries. During the eighteenth century their membership had 
fallen off, particularly among the upper classes. Indifference had 
affected even the clergy, and, some decades before the outbreak of 
the French Revolution, there had been widespread discussion as to 
whether organized Christianity would not disappear entirely in the 
new age of reason. Then came the dramatic changes in the position 
of the church in France. The clergy were suddenly deprived of 

8 Cf. M. E. Elkington, Les relations de sociitS entre VAngleterre ei la France 1814- 
18 so (Paris, 1929). 


their property and of their independence. During the Terror priests 
married, the church bells were melted into cannon, and the altars 
were stripped. From the violence of this extremism, which had never 
affected the masses, a sharp reaction among the governing classes 
appeared at the close of the century, and in 1801 Napoleon made his 
terms with the pope. 

Outside France the clergy in every state had, during the revolu- 
tion, grown increasingly bitter against anything that smacked of 
French rationalism. By 1815 they were everywhere proclaiming that 
the fall of the Napoleonic empire was not alone a political event, but 
also a victory of religion over free-thought. In this view they were 
supported by the governing classes who during the revolution had 
seen how easily thrones and estates could follow altars to their ruin, 
and who now regarded organized religion as the most substantial 
bulwark against revolutionary change. 

In 1815 the church was everywhere a privileged institution. It 
was either supported by grants from the government, or, if still in 
possession of its lands as in England and in most Catholic countries, 
it enjoyed a wide influence in public affairs. The dramatic changes 
of the time are best seen in the history of the Catholic Church. At 
the end of the eighteenth century it was widely assumed that 
Catholicism was tottering on the edge of extinction. When the 
Roman Republic was proclaimed in 1798, a statue of Liberty with 
her heel on the triple crown of St. Peter was erected, and in 1799 
Novalis wrote: “Catholicism is almost played out. The old Papacy 
is laid in the tomb, and Rome for the second time has become a 
ruin.” 9 Yet by 1815 a great Catholic reaction was under way, and 
even in Protestant states there had grown up a sympathy for the 
Catholic Church as one of the most effective forces in Europe for 
holding the revolutionary spirit in check. The governments were 
now convinced that if the papacy, the oldest and most legitimate 
monarchy in Europe, were not reinstated, no other monarchy could 
count on saving itself. The spirit of the time is in no way better 
shown than in the efforts made by the three non-Catholic powers, 
England, Russia, and Prussia, to restore the papacy to a position of 
influence in European affairs. The passive dignity of Pius VII be- 

9 H. Lichtenberger, Germany and Its Evolution iyi Modern Times (London, 1913), 



fore the bullying of Napoleon had given him a prestige which no 
pope had possessed for centuries. His return to Rome in 1814 was 
a triumphal progress. After his arrival he set to work, with the help 
of his chief minister, Cardinal Consalvi, to repair the ravages made 
by the revolution. 

Henceforth the spirit of ultramontanism reigned at Rome. The 
dominant note of a new age in the history of the church was struck 
at once by the reestablishment of the Jesuit Order. The Jesuits, it is 
true, had been reestablished in Russia In 1801, and 111 Sicily in 
1804, but now the Order was given its former International organi- 
zation and placed in a position of high favor at the papal court. Soon 
it was reorganizing its forces all over Europe and the United States. 
Even in France, where there were laws against them, the Jesuits 
were active in preaching and teaching. In 1820, Alexander expelled 
the Order from Russia because it interfered with the work of an- 
other of his religious experiments, the Bible Societies; and the French 
Chambers in 1828 passed new laws restricting Jesuit teaching activi- 
ties. In spite of these minor setbacks, however, the Order was more 
powerful than it had been since the Age of Louis XIV. The Inquisi- 
tion was reestablished at Rome and in Spain, and the Index was 
reconstituted. 10 

The chief activity of the papacy after the return of the pope to 
Rome was centered in efforts to recover its influence in the public 
affairs of Europe, to eradicate Gallicanism in France, Febronianism 
in Germany, and Josephism in Austria, and thereby to gain for 
Rome a greater influence in the delimitation of bishoprics and in the 
appointment of the clergy. Toward the accomplishment of this pro- 
gram, Consalvi negotiated a series of concordats with various Euro- 
pean governments. In 1816-17 agreements were drawn up with the 
governments of Spain, France, Sardinia, and Bavaria. The new 
French concordat, however, failed to satisfy the king and the 
Chambers, and after extended negotiations the Napoleonic arrange- 
ment of 1801 was renewed. Concordats were made with Naples in 
1818, with Prussia in 1824, with Holland in 1827. In Ireland, Canada, 

10 The literature on the Jesuit Order in modern times is very m.ulecnnle, but the 
reader may consult, on this period, M. J. Rouet de Journel, Un concur dr Jesuit cs d 
S am t-Petersbourg, 1800-1816 (Paris, 1922); A Boudou, Lc Saint-Siege et la Russia 
(Paris, 19 22)1 I, especially chap, iii; J. Burmchon, La Comfmgnic de Jesus cn 
France; Histoire d’un sikcle, 1814-1914 (4 vols., Paris, 19x4-1922), 


the United States, and the new states of Latin America, the govern- 
ments allowed the papacy a free hand in fixing the limits of the 
dioceses and in appointing the clergy. The political activities of the 
papacy after 1815 somewhat overreached themselves, and even in 
Catholic countries met with opposition. Metternich and the Austrian 
emperor refused to make a concordat with Rome, and Louis XVIII 
was hostile to the new ultramontane policies of the papal curia; in 
fact the governments of Austria and France gave favors to prelates 
of Josephist or Gallican views. 

' Wherever the Catholic Church was powerful, the clergy worked 
after 1815 for the restoration of the privileges which the church had 
enjoyed under the Ancien Regime. They strove to recover the church 
lands which had been seized by the revolutionary governments, to 
control education, and in general to fight all the forces that favored 
free-thought and democracy. The struggle was particularly bitter in 
France, where the Catholic Church had lost most from the revolu- 
tionary upheaval. With the backing of the Comte d’ Artois (after 
1824 Charles X), the clergy saw some chance of recovering its lands, 
of abolishing the Napoleonic Universite with its state control of edu- 
cation, and of removing the obligation of civil marriage established 
by the Code Napoleon. The influence of the clerical party in the 
Bourbon goyernment in France was the chief cause of the Revolution 
of 1830. 

Munich became the center of ultramontanism and of clerical re- 
action in Catholic Germany. Ludwig I tried to make the newly 
organized University of Munich (1826) a successful rival of the Prot- 
estant University of Berlin, and he called Gorres, Baader, Mohler, 
and Dollinger to the faculty there. But the Austrian government 
looked with some distrust upon the ultramontanism of Friedrich 
Schlegel, Werner, and Adam Muller. Both the emperor and Metter- 
nich still clung to the traditions of Joseph II. Spain, Portugal, the 
Italian states, Hungary, Ireland, Belgium, and Poland — these coun- 
tries were all strongholds of clerical power after the Napoleonic 
period, though the clergy were often unfavorable to the exist- 
ing political regime. 11 

11 A good brief account of the situation in France may be found in C. S. Phillips, The 
Church m France , 1789-1848 (London, 1929), chaps, ix to xi, on Germany see G. Goyau, 
UAUctnagne tihqieuse, Le Cathohcismc (Paris, 1910), I and M. Huber, Ludwig I und 
die U mversitat m Munchen (Wuubuig, * 939 )» 



The life of the parish priests of the Catholic Church, except in 
a few of the larger cities where the clergy had become a fleeted with 
the spirit of Jesuitism, went on very much as it had before the revolu- 
tion. The country priests were usually very poorly educated, even in 
France, Belgium, and South Germany, though they were more 
hard-working and conscientious than their superiors. The higher 
clergy were largely recruited from the nobility. There were among 
them a few men of great learning, and some able administrators and 
controversialists, but the number of clerics with any clear conception 
of what the church would have to do to regain its old prestige was 
very small. Although in a few states subject to foreign political 
control — Ireland, Poland, and Belgium — the clergy, especially after 
1820, played an important role in stimulating and guiding discon- 
tent, the Catholic clergy in general preached obedience to the estab- 
lished order, and were even more given to denouncing the race of 
atheists and democrats who made revolutions than were the states- 
men who directed the governments of the period. Clerical meddling 
in politics was a marked characteristic of almost every country. In 
Prance, for example, the bishops frequently issued orders to the 
faithful to vote for the royalist candidates, and certain bishops used 
their priests as electoral agents. 

Among the important activities of the Catholic clergy, besides the 
daily round of diocese and parish, were the propagation of the faith 
through revivalist methods and the organization of societies of 
Catholic laymen. The revivalist missionaries were particularly active 
in France. Bands of priests were sent out from the larger centers to 
hold services even in the most remote districts, services which fre- 
quently took place in the open air and were conducted in an at- 
mosphere of intense emotion. A large mixed chorus was usually 
organized to sing hymns set to the popular tunes of the day. The 
missionaries always ended their sojourn in a community with a 
great “ceremony of reparation.” On this occasion, a large wooden 
cross was borne in solemn procession, and, in the presence of the 
prefect or the mayor or some other important government official, 
was planted in some prominent place. Public penance for the out- 
rages of the revolution was then made before it. The ceremony 
usually closed with a burning of the works of Voltaire and the 


writers of the Enlightenment, and an oath was taken by all assembled 
to maintain religion and legitimate government. Sometimes the 
violent attacks of the missionaries on the great men of the revolution, 
especially on the “Ogre of Corsica, 55 and on those who had acquired 
national lands, led to hostile demonstrations in which the police 
were obliged to intervene. State officials came in such numbers to 
these services that the liberals always insisted that they were sent 
by order of the government. 12 

The societies for Catholic laymen had a much wider influence. 
Most of them were either founded or fostered by the Jesuits. Char- 
acteristic of this type of society were the Congregation de la Vierge 
in France, the San Fedists and other groups in Italy, and the Society 
of the Exterminating Angel in Spain. The Congregation brought 
together laymen and ecclesiastics who were agreed to use for the 
general good of the church any useful information or influence 
which they might be able to command. Subject to the central society 
were a large number of auxiliary groups organized among students, 
laboring men, and prisoners. It is estimated that there were fourteen 
hundred in the central society and forty-eight thousand in the af- 
filiated groups. The Comte d’Artois, the Prince de Polignac, Franchet 
d’Esperey, the director of police, and many other men eminent in 
the government and in French society took part in the movement. 
Members of the society acknowledged that they used their influence 
to have men favorable to the church appointed to educational and 
administrative posts. The exact relation of the Congregation to the 
Jesuit Order and to the Bourbon government is unknown, though 
their close association has never been successfully disproved. 13 

The secret societies organized by the Catholic Church in Italy 
were founded primarily to combat the influence of the liberal Car- 
bonari groups. The San Fedists and Consistoriali of the Papal States, 
the Calderari of Naples, the Society of Catholic Friendship of Pied- 
mont were all similar in purpose to the Congregation. They received 
help from the Jesuits and from the Zelanti, the reactionary party at 
the papal court. The principles which these societies tried to inculcate 

12 Cf. G. Vauthier, “Les missions religieuses sous la Restauration,” Revue des etudes 
histariques, 1920. 

13 Phillips, op at. chap ix; Geoff roy de Grandmaison, La Congregation, 1801-1830 
(Paris, 18S9), chaps, vni, ff.; P Nournsson, Histoire legale des congregations religieuses 
en France (Paris, 1928), I, chap. iv. 


x 6 

are well summed up in a San Fedist piffi 1: cat : op. La Voce della 
Verna . “God has made hell,” it said, “and the most pious prince is 
he whose prime minister is the executioner.” 11 Francis, Duke o£ 
Modena, the “Butcher” as he was commonly called and the villain 
of the revolt of 1831, was especially active in these societies. It was 
at the instigation of the San Fedists that Pius VII in 1821 promulgated 
a bull against the Carbonari. During the same period (1820-21) the 
San Fedists tried to drive Consalvi from office. Proclamations de- 
nouncing him appeared on the streets of Rome along with manifestoes 
of the Carbonari proclaiming death to the priests and calling for a 
republic. From one end of the peninsula to the other these Italian 
societies formed a kind of secret police whose denunciations were 
nominally directed against the members of the Carbonari but were 
in practice used by the governments against all inconvenient persons. 
Moreover, they were active in stirring up the lower classes in the 
towns against the liberal leaders of the bourgeoisie. When distur- 
bances broke out, their propaganda bore fruit. The Italian revolts 
of the early nineteenth century all failed not only because of the 
steady indifference of the masses but also because of the hostility 
stirred up by the clericals. 

A similar organization in Spain, the Society of the Exterminating 
Angel, founded by the Bishop of Osma, had branches all over the 
country. It brought together, for the defense of conservative prin- 
ciples, the higher clergy, the monarchy, the aristocracy, and the 
masses. Don Carlos, the king’s brother, was one of its leaders. After 
the Revolution of 1820 it was active in ferreting out revolutionaries, 
and the only two newspapers that were allowed to exist were pub- 
lished under its influence. Even the reactionary king, Ferdinand VII, 
was regarded as too liberal by the members of the society. 

The Protestant governments, like the Catholic, enjoyed the support 
of the clergy in their efforts to reimpose an authoritarian regime. 
The Anglican Church was, in this matter, one of the most conserva- 
tive. While dissent had long been permitted in England, the estab- 
lished church forced everyone to pay taxes for its maintenance. Ac- 
cording to the law, Anglican clergymen alone could perform 

14 B. King, A History of Italian Unity ( 2nd ed„, London, 1912), I, 140. Some 
historians have denied the existence of these Italian societies; cf D. Spadoni: Stitc, cmi» 
spirastoni, e conspirator i ncllo stoto pontificio (Turin«Rome, 1904), cxl-exlv. 


marriages; no service except that of the Prayer Book could be read 
over the dead. Most of the charitable and educational endowments 
were in the control of the Anglican clergy, and both the universities 
and the great public schools were entirely dominated by the state 
church. The Presbyterians had a similar monopoly in Scotland. 
Nearly all the Anglican bishops were nobles or were closely affiliated 
with the nobility. Of twenty-seven English and Welsh bishops in 
1820, eleven were nobles, eleven more had been tutors in aristocratic 
families, while the other five had received their positions through 
the patronage of some nobleman. These bishops lived in dignified 
ease apart from the parish priests, entertained the country gentry, 
attended the king’s levees and occasionally published books on 
points of classical scholarship. In the House of Lords they fought 
as an almost solid phalanx against any reform of the penal laws, 
against Catholic Emancipation, and against the Reform Bill. 

The country parsons, recruited largely from the rural gentry, 
lived like squires. Unlike similar groups in the continental countries, 
the country clergy in England had the tastes of the aristocracy; 
they found little to do but shoot and fish. Some went in for a 
dilettante scholarship, though, unlike the Protestant clergy in Ger- 
many, very few could boast a serious theological training. Jane 
Austen’s novels depict a variety of clergymen, some amiable, some 
ridiculous, but few who seem to have anything to do with religion. 
The novelist never even notes this deficiency. The temper of the 
Anglican clergy is shown in the chief theological textbook of the 
time, Paley’s Evidences of Christianity (ed. of 1794). Christ, accord- 
ing to Paley, was quite unlike the Methodists; he was not a man 
of “impassioned devotion,” there was “no heat in his piety,” for 
he was a “person of moderation and soundness of judgment.” 
Throughout its life and organization, the ecclesiastical constitution 
of England harmonized with the political constitution because the 
same social groups controlled both. 15 

The laity of the Anglican Church were greatly influenced by a 
group of broad churchmen known as the Evangelicals. While re- 
maining within the official church, these men took over many of 
the ideas and attitudes of the Methodists. They wished to minimize 

ir> See J. H. Overton, The English Church in the Nineteenth Century, 1800*1833 (Lon- 
don, 1894), chaps, i, 11; and P. II. Ditchfteld, The Old-Time Parson (London, 1908). 



ritual and ceremony, and to arouse the religious interest of the lower 
classes. They founded a series of reform societies to extend Sunday 
schools at home and foreign missions abroad, to fight the slave trade, 
and to distribute religious tracts. The movement affected the Angli- 
can laity far more than the clergy. Politically very influential was a 
small group of these humanitarians, led by Wilberforce and Zachary 
Macaulay, called the “Clapham Sect,” and, by those who disliked 
them, “The Saints.” Their liberal enemies accused them of ignoring 
crying abuses at home, particularly those which arose from enclosures 
and from the factory system, while they were distributing Bibles to 
the heathen or were working to abolish slavery in the British West 
Indies. Bemham’s friend, Francis Place, called Wilberforce an “ugly 
epitome of the devil,” and Cobbett made bitter fun of Evangelical 
piety . 16 

Among the dissenting sects in England, the Methodists were the 
strongest. The evangelizing efforts of the Wesleys and their followers 
had raised the total number of Nonconformist churchgoers from 
about a twentieth of the total population to nearly one-half. The suc- 
cesses of the Methodists had stimulated the Presbyterians, the Baptists, 
the Congregationalists, the Quakers, and the Evangelicals to greater 
activities which resulted in bringing an emotional type of Christianity 
to thousands among the lower classes. No movement, in the long 
run, did more to inoculate the English people against revolutionary 
ideas. While, under French influence, radicals of all sorts were try- 

ing to establish by force a kingdom of heaven on earth, Methodism, 
as an influence in all the churches, set men’s hearts on a kingdom 
which was not of this world, and one which certainly could never 
be established by violence. In the chapels of all the Nonconformist 

sects the virtues of hard work, frugality, and self-respect were being 
preached by enthusiastic, though usually ignorant, exhorters. The 
lower classes, the small shopkeepers, farmers, artisans, and agricul- 
tural laborers joined the dissenting sects by the thousand^ The 
leaders in these congregations were usually the elite of this group— 
the skilled workers, the more energetic shopkeepers, and the more 

10 Especially of Hannah More, one of tlieir pamphleteers, in 1 ns Hannah Move’s ac 
count of the celestial death of an Evangelical mouse, wlu> though starving would not 
touch the master s bread and cheese. Cf. on the Evangelicals L. E. Binns, The Evan- 
gehcal Movement m the English Church (London, 1928), and W. L. Matbieson, Eng. 
l%sh Church Reform x8i $*1840 (London, *923) • 


successful small landowners. When, finally, a dissenting family be- 
came wealthy, it usually went over to the Church of England, for 
if a successful man of business wished to enter the governing class, 
to entertain at his country seat the clergy or gentry of the neighbor- 
hood, to obtain a title or a government appointment, it would not 
do to be a dissenter. So Nonconformity tended to become a transi- 
tional creed, a stage in the history of a rising English family. 17 

The world of German Protestantism had been stirred in the 
eighteenth century by Pietism, and its intellectual outlook was being 
broadened in the early nineteenth century by the teaching and writ- 
ing of Schleiermacher. German universities offered the most thorough 
training in Europe in theology, Greek and Hebrew history and 
philology, and general Biblical exegesis. The German Protestant 
clergy was therefore better supplied with well-educated leaders than 
any other ecclesiastical group. Still, there was no dearth of ignorant 
and reactionary pastors, and Germany experienced no great popular 
movement like Methodism in England. Frederick William III 
of Prussia made the tercentenary of the Reformation (1817) the 
occasion for working out a project for reuniting the Lutheran 
and Calvinist churches in order to strengthen religious resistance 
to the teachings of liberalism. Schleiermacher lent his assistance 
and Bunsen drew up for the United Church a sort of German 
Book of Common Prayer. Official sanction was given the move- 
ment by the governments of Baden, Hesse, Wurttemberg, and some 
of the smaller states. But the Lutherans refused to compromise on 
their doctrine of consubstantiation and the Calvinists objected to the 
Lutheran ideas about the power of the crown in ecclesiastical affairs. 
The orthodox on both sides were opposed to the attempt to intro- 
duce some of the doctrines of Schelling and Schleiermacher into the 
statement of faith. Although the Prussian government for a time 
used pressure to enforce the union, the arrangement never worked 
satisfactorily. 18 

Several international Protestant movements of the time brought 

17 See W. J Warner, The Wesleyan Movement in the Industrial Revolution (London, 
1930), Elie Halevy, A History of the English People in 18x5 (New York, 1924), E R. 
Taylor, Methodism and Politics (Cambridge, 1935) and M. J. Edwards, 4fter Wesley, 
Social and Political Influence of Methodism (London, 1935). 

18 A good account of the movement may be found m J. B. Kissling, Der deutsche 
Protestantismus, xSip-igip (2 vols., Munster, I9i7>i9i8), chaps, i and li Cf. G. Goyati, 
UAllemagne religicuse le Protestantisms (Paris, 1924). 



more intellectual cooperation among the different national Protes- 
tant churches than had existed since the time of the Reformation. 
One of these, the Reveil — a society to promote religious revivals — 
was originated by a group of English and Scotch Methodists, some 
of whom preached on the continent. The chief center of the move- 
ment came to be Geneva, whence their conservative theological and 
political ideas spread into France, largely through the efforts of the 
Monod brothers. Another international Protestant movement aimed 
at the founding of Bible Societies to collect funds for the printing 
and distribution of the Scriptures. The mother society was founded 
in England in 1804. By 1820 similar organizations existed not only 
in Germany and the Scandinavian countries, where the royal families 
of Prussia, Bavaria, Wiirttemberg, Sweden, and Denmark patronized 
their work, but also in France, Holland, Hungary, Russia, the United 
States, and even in Iceland. In Russia, where they were introduced 
by Alexander I, there were, by 1820, almost three hundred branches. 
Metternich, on the other hand, would never allow the founding of 
Bible Societies in Austria, apparently because he feared they might 
bring men into contact with English ideas. 

The Orthodox clergy in Russia were completely under the thumb 
of the state. Seraphim, Metropolitan of Moscow, and Photius were 
the leaders of the most reactionary forces in the Russian Church. In 
the earlier part of the reign of Alexander I, they had had to accept 
the liberal views of the tsar, but after 1822, when he grew more con- 
servative, they took the lead in a clerical war on the press and the 
universities. The majority of the Russian clergy had small incomes 
and their lives differed little from those of the peasants about them. 
But since only the sons of secular priests were admitted to the 
clerical schools, and as parishes were handed down in the family, 
the clergy formed a separate group in society. The higher clergy 
after 1825 exerted an important influence in the growth o£ Slavophil 
ideas. In the Balkan states, the Orthodox clergy were under the 
control of the Greek Patriarch of Constantinople who was, in turn, 
merely an official of the Ottoman despotism. A small number of 
priests among the subject nationalities were beginning to revive 
the national legends and history of their own peoples, but the ma- 
jority of the higher clergy, who were Greek, frowned on such inter- 


ests and joined with the Ottoman officials in keeping the population 
in bondage. Among the Turks themselves, the Mohammedan 
learned caste, opposed to all new ideas, fought the reforms of Mah- 
mud II and backed the Janissaries in their quarrel with the sultan. 

From one end of Europe to the other, the churches and the clergy 
were, with few exceptions, everywhere regarded as the chief supports 
of the throne. The close cooperation between church and state to 
combat change, the growing sympathy of the Catholic and Protes- 
tant groups, and the widespread acceptance by the governing classes 
of the ideals of the Holy Alliance are all indicative of the close con- 
nection between throne and altar. Guizot expressed the spirit of the 
age when he exhorted Catholics and Protestants to work together, 
“Do not quarrel among yourselves, quarrel only with those who do 
not believe; that is your field.” 19 

Viewing their activities as a whole, it is evident that after 1815 
^ttie monarchs, nobles, and clergy were trying to reconstitute the so- 
ciety of the Ancien Regime. 20 Statesmen were endeavoring to carry 
through much more than a merely political program. In the same 
way, the policies and activities of the churches — Catholic, Protestant, 
and Orthodox — were not confined to spiritual fields. How the cleri- 
cal, aristocratic, and royal interests worked together can be seen only 
in a detailed study of the period, but their general plan of procedure 
becomes evident from a consideration of the policies of Villele, head 
of the ministry in France from 1822 to 1827, and of the cooperation 
he got from churchmen, nobles, and king. Under Villele’s direction, 
they strove together to transform the whole order. The Law of 
Primogeniture and the Law for the Indemnification of the Nobles 
were intended to give the French aristocracy their old economic and 
social status. The Law of Sacrilege and the attempts to abolish the 
Universite de France were directed toward the restoration of the 
church to the position it had had before the revolution. In the Laws 
of Press Censorship, and in the elaborate attempt to nullify the pur- 
poses of the Charter of 1814 by controlling elections, Villele and 
his followers sought to undo the political changes that had come 
since 1789. 

19 g Weill, L’iveil des nationalites et le mouvement liberal (Paris, 1930), 196. 

20 With the addition in France of the Napoleonic administrative system, and in 
other states of similar systems which had greatly strengthened the power of the central 



The survival of old differences, and, in certain cases, the develop- 
ment of new ones, made complete agreement among the conservative 
forces impossible. Catholics and Protestants continued to distrust 
each other, particularly in France, England, and the Low Countries, 
while in Germany Lutherans and Calvinists could not he brought 
together. Metternich refused to allow Bible Societies m Austria, and 
they were condemned by the pope in 1817 and again in 1S24. Louis 
XVIII in France and the Hapsburg government m Vienna declined 
to make certain concessions to a papacy pursuing ultramontane 
policies. The papacy refused to join the Holy Alliance, as did Eng- 
land; Turkey was not asked to join. A change in the Tory ministry 
led England in 1822 to withdraw from the European Alliance. At 
the same time a part of the aristocracy and of the Catholic clergy in 
Ireland, Belgium, Poland, Hungary, and northern Italy became in- 
creasingly hostile to the prevailing political order. In Russia, a group 
of young nobles, the Decembrists, embraced the liberal ideals of 
western Europe and conspired against the political and religious 
tyranny of the imperial government. These important exceptions, 
and others that might be cited, must not, however, obscure the fact 
that the throne and the altar joined in sharing the first fruits of 
^Waterloo and in trying to hold them. This collaboration of the con- 
servative forces gives the age its peculiar character. 

Chapter Two 



The fortunes of war h ad restored the mona rchies and aristocracies 
T o7>olinci^ the economicpower, at least within the society 

o f western Europe, wa s slowly passing into the hands of the bour- 
geoisie, This process did not escape the notice even of the landed aris- 
tocracy. In 1814 the French emigre the Comte de Montlosier, pub- 
lished a tract in which he said: “We are going to see how in the midst 
of an ancient state will arise a new state. We are going to see a dual 
state, a dual people, advancing side by side, attacking each other. The 
movable properties are being balanced against the immovable* 
money against the land, the cities against the chateaux. The people, 
rising ever higher, alters the old forms or does away with them. It 
ends by sitting at the council table of the king and from there im- 
posing its laws and institutions.” 1 

The bourgeoisie was ? large and ill-defined class which ^showed 
witKIE IfselF wide variations in social and economic status. In fact 
there was not at that time one economic system, but several, function- 
ing alongside of one another. Moreover, the extent of social change 
was very unequal from country to country and even from district 
to district. Some countries and some districts were being rapidly 
transformed while others were as yet hardly touched. Side by side 
with cities like Manchester in England and Lille in France, with 
their masses of factory chimneys, were hundreds of towns where 
economic life had not greatly changed since the time of St. Louis 
and Dante. 

The range of interest and outlook among the bourgeoisie was 
much broader and more varied than among the members of the 
aristocracy. In the larger cities the leaders of the old mercantilist 

1 Montlosier, De la monarchic franqaise (Paris, 1S14), I, 135**36. 




plutocracy formed a compact group which stood socially just below 
the town-dwelling nobility. In England, France, and the Low Coun- 
tries, this plutocracy was bepinmrr: to share its leadership in the 
world of business with a small number of factory owners, the new 
“captains of industry,” as Carlyle was soon to name them. Beneath 
both types of wealthy magnates were a large number of small shop- 
keepers and professional men whose status had not been greatly 
changed for several generations. Indeed, the term bourgeoisie can 
hardly be confined to those who dwelt in cities, for there were some 
artisans, freeholding farmers, and country doctors, lawyers, and 
school-teachers, especially in England, and in parts of France, Ger- 
many, Italy, and the Low Countries, who shared the point of view of 
the middle class in the towns, read the same newspapers and often 
discussed politics with as much interest. 2 

At the top of this large and vaguely defined bourgeois world were 
the old patrician families of the larger cities of western Europe. 
Their fortunes had been founded on the profits of colonial enterprise, 
and after 1815 most of them were, as before the revolution, bankers 
.and merchants rather than manufacturers. To this group, as to the 
middle class in general, the amassing of riches had not yet come 
to be an end in itself. Wealth was considered only as a means of 
assuring a man leisure to enjoy his family and his friends. Such a 
merchant in the early nineteenth century, regarding his customers 
as a landed proprietor might have regarded a feudal fief, considered 
it beneath his dignity to advertise, to try to get trade away from 
another merchant, or to attempt to extend his output indefinitely. 
His ideal of life was an assured income, the possibility of an early 
retirement from business, and the acquisition of an estate in the 
country. As a tygejhfigejaen were usually self-reliant and cautious 
and, after 1815, anxious to maintain p eace. T hey disliked all extremes, 
absolutism or repuBlicanism, atheism or the "rule "of* priests, and 
were “for 'order, 'security, and authority, provided these were not so 
oppressive as to throw the world again into revolution They desired 
a voice In the government through which they might influence law- 
making "to the advantage of their c£mmercTal Interests. They were 
usually careful to go to church— in England It was often to a Non- 

3 Cf. W. Sombart, Le bourgeois (Paris, 1926). 


conformist chapel — and they were philanthropic toward the inferior 
classes, so long as these were willing to remain inferior. In England 
the wealthier members of this plutocracy often intermarried with 
the old aristocracy and in France with the Napoleonic nobility. 

-The upper bourgeoisie in France resented the airs of superiority 
of the old nobility. To a minister who offered Royer-Collard the 
title of count, he answered indignantly, “Count, yourself!” When 
Louis XVIII accorded the Sieur Hervier de Charin letters of relief 
to wipe away the stigma of his ancestors who had engaged in com- 
merce, Ternaux, the greatest factory owner on the continent and 
a member of the Chamber of Deputies, rose in the assembly and 
said, “After the last exposition of our arts, where I presented before 
the public some products of my industrial labors, I received from 
His Majesty the title of baron. This title, which I did not solicit, 
has now lost all value in my eyes.” 3 The July Ordinances of 1830 
disfranchised many of the wealthier merchants of Paris, and they 
showed their hostility to the government by closing their shops, % 
and arming their employees to fight for the maintenance of the 
Charter of 1814. Elsewhere on the continent the aristocracy looked 
down on the wealthier bourgeoisie, though as a class the latter were 
better educated, more widely traveled, and more interested in new 
movements in literature, science, and politics. The economic life 
of nearly all the large cities was in the hands of this mercantile 
plutocracy, which, like the highest aristocracy, shared across all 
national frontiers something of a common culture and outlook. Its 
ideals, which eventually passed down to lower strata of the middle 
class, are well set forth in the early comedies of Scribe and in the 
novels of Jane Austen. 

The business life of the larger cities included all the older types 
of local trading, usually centered in a weekly market, together with 
some wholesale buying and selling of colonial wares and of local 
manufactures. Except in parts of England, France, and the Low 
Countries where there were large factories equipped with water or 
steam power, manufacturing was carried on either by the craft 
system, or by the newer putting-out or domestic system. In the case 
of the latter, an entrepreneur bought the raw materials, distributed 

8 Archives parlemcntaires , 2 Sene (Paris, 1876), XXXII, 707. 


them for manufacture to the home-workeis, and then marketed the 
finished product. But the greater pait of the industry of western 
Europe m TS15 was still conducted by independent craftsmen, who 
might or might not belong to a guild* producing on a small scale in 
workshops of their own. It is this parallelism and ova lapping of 
several types of manufactuie, very duractcnstic of the period, which 
makes all generalization difficult. 

Even in the larger towns where some manufacturing was done, 
the separation of the world of industry from that of agriculture was 
not clearly marked. The larger manufactures, which were usually 
still produced on the putting-out system, diffused industry through 
the countryside. This interpenetration of agriculture and industry 
gave the town life of the early nineteenth century a character much 
like that of earlier centuries. The horn of the cowherd called together 
the cows of the townsmen, and orchards and vegetable gardens often 
adorned the front yards. There was hardly a town-dwelling family 
without a garden inside or directly outside the town wall. Every 
household not only had most of its clothing made at home, but also 
brewed and baked and slaughtered there. It was taken for granted 
that the pig was the town scavenger, and that sewers, street-paving, 
sidewalks, and gas-lighting were wonders that belonged to a few 
great cities like London and Paris. With the exception of the few 
factory towns in western Europe, even the larger cities still fitted 
easily into their old ramparts. The high church spires and the walls 
of a few public buildings rose above a mass of roofs from which one 
could see the surrounding plowlands. Economically the world of 
Metternich was much like the world of Voltaire, 

The similarity must not, however, obscure the changes actually 
in progress. Besides the break-up of the guilds and the growth of the 
putting-out system, other innovations were taking place. Trading 
was being facilitated by striking improvements in roads and canals. 
Indeed, not since Roman times had western Europe possessed so 
many miles of good roads as it did after 1815, and even in antiquity 
the same region had not been so well supplied with canals. Travel 
by stagecoach was improved in comfort and increased in speed 
before the steamboat and the locomotive were introduced in the 
i83o’s and 1840’s to give this transformation a new impulse. In 


eastern and in much o£ southern Europe, however, all communica- 
tion still depended on rivers which might freeze in winter or run 
shallow in summer, and on dirt roads that were quagmires in spring 
and autumn. Trade was also blocked by innumerable local cus- 
toms barriers, though these were less numerous than they had been 
in the eighteenth century. 

If the building of better roads and the opening of canals, together 
with the abolition of many internal customs barriers, gave an im- 
petus to business, there was after 1815 a temporary decline due to 
the economic maladjustments of twenty-five years of war. The Con- 
tinental Blockade had ruined the colonial commerce of France, 
Spain, and Holland and had, in every country, seriously dislocated 
most industries. The peace in 1815, from which so much was hoped, 
proved to be only another sudden disturbance for business. Many 
industries lacked capital, others found their markets gone, and their 
old customers ruined or at least impoverished. On the continent 
nearly all industries were for a time depressed by the dumping on 
their markets of accumulated English stocks which undersold the 
home manufactures created or developed by the blockade. This led 
after 1815 to a great drive on the part of the manufacturing groups 
to force the governments to introduce high tariffs. The result soon 
appeared in the establishment of national protective systems for 
local industries which the blockade had created. This was true in 
every country from the United States to Russia. The immediate 
dislocation and confusion which followed the Napoleonic wars 
convinced many business men that the royal and aristocratic direc- 
tion of the state was the cause of business depression and instability. 
Much of the political strife of the time is understandable only when 
this is kept in mind. 4 

Alongside this older commercial and industrial world, which had 
not changed fundamentally since the eighteenth century, a new so- 
ciety was forming, rapidly in parts of England, and more slowly in 
France and the Low Countries, wherever industries were being 
transformed through the introduction of machinery and the steam 
engine. The common type of leader in this change was a hard- 

4 An interesting comparison between conditions as they were after 1815 and after 191S 
is made by Mrs. H. A. L. Fisher, in her essay Then and Now, Economic Problems after 
the War a Hundred Years Ago (London, 1925). 


working, self-made man, usually of little education but of great 
energy. Spending his days over his machines or his accounts, he 
allowed neither himself nor his mill-hands leisure or recreation. His 
one all-absorbing ambition was to increase the output of his ma- 
chines to the very limit. He hoarded every farthing so as to reinvest 
it in the business, for capital still was the laborious result of parsi- 
mony. For that reason he believed that high wages and most govern- 
ment regulations were disastrous to business. At the same time he 
found in the strain of competition an excuse for opposing expendi- 
tures for human welfare. Such a factory owner kept his own secrets, 
tried to discover those of his neighbors, strove for personal gain, took 
personal risks, and made his way by personal initiative and hard 
work. He was often a member of one of the Nonconformist sects 
whose exhorters were preaching the evils of extravagance and of 
worldly pleasures, and the virtues of self-denial and self-discipline, 
a code that was likewise required for modern business. 

Beside this group of enterprising “captains of industry,” as 
representatives of a new social order, were a number of great bankers, 
Laffitte of Paris, the Hopes of Amsterdam, the Barings of London, 
and above all the Rothschilds, whose system of banking extended 
from London to Naples. After 1815 these great financiers played 
a much larger role in European society than they had in the pre- 
ceding century. Like the few great factory owners of the period, 
they represented only a small element in the society of the time 
though they stand out as the forerunners of a new order. The in- 
sistence of these new groups on the obligation of everyone to do 
something useful, and their will to power and to wealth — what 
Balzac called their strategic des inter its — had begun by 1830 to affect 
the whole tone of British and French society. Their ideal of a life 
of hard work differed sharply from the ideal of the nobility, shared 
to some extent by the older bourgeoisie, of a life of leisure and of 
personal cultivation. Great Britain was the leader in these economic 
changes. As the nineteenth century proceeded England was praised, 
envied, and imitated, much as the United States has been in the 
twentieth. English ideas, machines, and men were borrowed, as 
well as her accumulated wealth; and from England the idea of the 
possibilities of an industrialized society spread across the continent. 


The term Industrial Revolution* as applied to these changes, many- 
of which were due to the introduction of the steam engine, is no 
longer so widely used as it was a generation ago. Even in England, 
where the transition to industrialism came most rapidly, a close 
examination of the situation has shown that the changes were 
too gradual to warrant calling them a revolution. Recent studies 
point to the persistence and the great importance of the putting-out 
system of manufacture all through the first half of the nineteenth 
century, as well as to the limited application of machinery and of 
steam power to industry, and to the small size of most industrial 
establishments. Indeed, it is now clear that while many industries 
by 1830 had been affected by mechanization, nevertheless no single 
British industry had by that time passed through a complete tech- 
nical transformation. 6 

The history of banking and investment shows the same evidence 
of steady development, although the total effect of such change 
could not by 1830 be called a revolution. In England more credit 
was available than in the eighteenth century, though even bankers 
like the Rothschilds were still reluctant to lend money freely, and 
most banks would lend only in small amounts and on short term 
credits. The joint-stock company was now permitted by law but it 
was still hedged about with elaborate regulations. Thus wherever 
the story of English industrial change is picked up it shades from a 
remote and somewhat similar past on into a similar future. 

In France the changes came even more slowly. Although Shef- 
field, Birmingham, Manchester, Liverpool, and Leeds increased by 
forty per-cent between 1821 and 1831, it took a half century for 
cities like Paris, Lyons, and Bordeaux to double their population. 
Here, as elsewhere on the continent, mechanization had to make 
way against fixed habits and the routine of old business forms and 
usages. Credit was almost nonexistent, means of communication 
were inadequate, markets were restricted. Such industries as were 

5 Cf. T. S. Ashton, “The Industrial Revolution,’* Econ. Hist. Rev. 1934 and J. U. 
Nef, “The Industrial Revolution Reconsidered” in J. of Econ. Hist., 1943. 

6 Among recent studies the most detailed is J. H, Clapham, An Economic History of 
Modern Britain (2nd ed , Cambridge, 1930), I; see also L. W. White and E. W. 
Shanahan, The Industrial Revolution and the Economic World of To-day (Lonacn, 


3 ° 

organized on any considerable scale lacked qualified workmen and 
technical improvements. 7 

The sane and shrewd handling of public finance in both England 
and France was a help to business, although severe financial panics 
in 1816-17, in 1819, and above all m the great crisis of 1825-26 otl’set 
much that the governments were able to do. In spite of all short- 
comings in the banking and credit situation, however, a new mech- 
anism of national and international banking and investment was 
slowly making its way. Western Europe was gradually becoming 
a single commercial and industrial society with certain common 
economic interests and common economic diseases. England needed 
the continental markets and the continent needed some of Eng- 
land’s manufactures and capital as never before. A situation had 
already developed in which nations were so closely interlocked 
financially that pressure on the economic nerve-centers in Paris, 
London, Amsterdam, Hamburg, or New York was felt nearly 

Thus, in spite of all manner of disorders and changes of political 
conditions, there was from the days of the Ancien Regime, through 
the revolutionary era into the period of the restoration, a slow 
but steady accumulation of capital and an extending commerce and 
manufacture. This economic transformation was more rapid in the 
western countries than in the outer European states, although its 
effects were felt even there. Among the leaders of the middle class 
the conviction was growing that they were the important figures 
in society and that the state should be run for their benefit. At the 
same time the great bankers, merchants, and manufacturers found 
their activities hedged about by local customs boundaries, by dis- 
advantageous laws of incorporation, and by mercantilist marketing 
regulations. 8 The freedom to speak, the freedom to move about 

n Cf. Charles Ballot, Introduction du mechanisms dans V Industrie frangaise (Paris, 
1923), and Henri See, La me economique de la France sous la monarchic censitai re 
(Paris, 19 27), chap. u. 

8 In Piedmont, for example, a decree of 1S14 expelled the French residents who 
had come m during the revolutionary era. Jews who had acquired real estate were 
forced to put it on sale, and the Jews were again obliged to- live m ghettos. Thus two 
of the most active trading groups, the French and Jewish merchants, were badly hit 
by the restoration. Moreover, the artisan guilds were restored, and the government 
further hindered industrial development bv g-artmg a number of monopolies. The whole 
matter is interestingly discussed m C. n.* ,agallo. Le origtni della grande mdustria 
cmiemporanen (Perugia-Venice, 1929-30), II, 2; 5 T. 


and to buy and sell, and the free choice of an occupation constituted 
the basis of their judgment of the worth of any government. 


Below these groups, which controlled the business life of the urban 
centers, were large numbers of small shopkeepers and craftsmen. 
The majority of them lived in scattered market towns which were 
the centers of small pockets of economic self-sufficiency. The ac- 
tivity of such towns was concentrated about a weekly market to 
which the farmers from the surrounding districts brought their 
produce and sold it directly to the local shopkeepers, shoemakers, 
and tailors. At all such markets, and at the occasional fairs which 
brought together traders from a wider area, all the goods bought 
and sold were displayed before the purchaser who satisfied him- 
self by personal inspection of their condition and quality. This age- 
old economy was supplemented by an irregular exchange of goods, 
carried on by traveling peddlers. In many parts of Europe where 
the population was sparse and the towns few, the peddler supplied 
almost the only link between the scattered agrarian settlements 
and the outer world. The itinerant hawker and the stage of eco- 
nomic development he represented held this market until the de- 
velopment of the railroad altered the whole economic order. 

The local cafe, the coffee-house, or the beer-garden brought to- 
gether the tradesmen, the lawyers, and the doctors of the town and 
often a certain number of the farmers from the neighborhood. Here 
they read newspapers and discussed politics. Their growing interest 
in public affairs was particularly noticeable in the smaller communi- 
ties of England and France where a newspaper-reading public was 
by 1815 already in existence. Though less marked in other countries, 
the beginnings of these changes could be seen also in Italy and in 
Germany. Elsewhere the newspaper was almost as unknown as 
the steam engine, and in outward appearance, at least, the life of 
the towns still bore the mark of earlier centuries. In Austria and 
the German states the return of peace produced the so-called “Era 
of Good Feeling” — or, as it was called later, the “Biedermeier period” 
— when the middle classes settled back into the enjoyment of a 
bourgeois comfort. But beneath this apparently unchanging surface. 



the revolutionary storm and the long wais that followed it had 
brought even to the countryside the idea and the possibility of 
great and fundamental changes. 

Most of the craftsmen both m the larger cities and in the smaller 
■market towns owned their own properties and maintained a cer- 
tain independence. On the continent the period was a fairly pros- 
perous one for such workers. The guilds were disintegrating, and 
the large factory was still rare. In parts of western Europe, the 
putting-out system had changed the status of some workers. Under 
this system the worker usually owned his own tools and worked 
in his own home, though by 1815 in England the capitalist entre- 
preneur had generally come to own the machines and even the 
workers’ houses. Under such an industrial regime the workers, be- 
fore the advent of the steam engine or the factory, had already 
become practically a proletarian class. The coming of the factory 
did no more than to make worse living and working conditions and 
to increase the irksomeness of the discipline imposed. Dislike of fac- 
tory discipline, rather than a desire to maintain their economic 
independence, drove the home-workers to compete with factory- 
made products long after such a course had become economically 
ruinous. The final stages of the struggle between them and the rising 
factory system were marked by suffering and bitterness. The 
workers rioted and broke the machines in a futile effort to stop the 
mechanization and the concentration of industry. 9 

In a few centers in western Europe the factory stood as the sym- 
bol of the rise of a new class in European society, the industrial 
proletariat. This new group of wage-slaves presented a variety of 
serious problems which were not understood and which few thinkers 
or statesmen made any serious effort to grasp. The new factory sys- 
tem herded the workers into a common establishment where they 
were closely supervised and kept steadily at work. Laborers were 
obliged to live in quarters which they did not own and under con- 
ditions which they did not control. Before 1830 these problems 
appeared in only a few centers, and in certain branches of any given 
industry. For example, in the English cotton industry, the earlier 

0 The best accounts are still those of W. Hasbach, A History of the English Agricul- 
tural Labourer (and. imp., London, 1920), chaps, ii and iii; and J. L. and B» Hammond, 
The Village Labourer, 1760-1832 (London, 1912), chaps, hi to v. 


factories were for spinning and printing, and the intermediate weav- 
ing process continued to be done in cottages under the putting-out 

Women and children were more useful than adult male workers 
in the spinning and printing processes where most of the work 
consisted of simple tasks which required little strength or skill, such 
as placing the cotton in the machines, tying the thread when it 
broke, and taking off the finished material. For this reason, the 
proportion of adult males in the factories remained considerably 
below the proportion found in the cloth industries as a whole, until 
the improvement of power-weaving finally drove hand-weaving 
from the field. As a result, the worst abuses of the early phases of 
the factory movement were in the exploitation of women and chil- 
dren, the groups least able to make effective protest. Many of the 
children in English factories were recruited from the larger towns 
where, according to laws dating from the time of Henry VIII, 
orphans and vagrant children could be bound out as apprentices . 10 
In the new factories women and children, many of the latter no 
more than ten years of age, had to work from twelve to eighteen 
hours a day. The foremen would sometimes beat the children to 
keep them awake and at work. The earliest factories were seldom 
properly ventilated and the machines were not equipped with safety 
devices. Work often began as early as five o’clock in the morning 
and lasted until eight or nine at night with short periods for meals. 
The long hours weakened the resistance of the workers and con- 
tributed to the spread of disease. 

Distress in the factory towns was acute , 11 though conditions were 
often no worse than for the lower classes of agricultural workers. 
The towns as yet made no proper provision for sewage disposal or 
for water supply. Large families were crowded into miserable rooms 
where filth and undernourishment increased sickness, alcoholism, 
and prostitution, and raised the rate of infant mortality. Any crisis 
in trade which meant the cutting of wages or unemployment, or 

10 Cf. O. J. Dunlop, English Apprenticeship and Child Labour (London, 1912), espe- 
cially chaps, xvi and xvh, and A. E. Bland, P. A. Brown, and R. H. Tawney, English 
Economic History, Select Documents (London, 1921), 4S2-524. 

“The Industrial Revolution seen m perspective may seem a gradual process, so 
gradual that economists rightly find the phrase incorrect. But as an experience m in- 
dividual and family lives, the Industrial Revolution was sudden and its consequences 
sweeping.” J, L. and B Hammond, The Age of the Chartists (London, 1930), 20. 



a bad harvest and the consequent rise of the puce of food, stuffs, 
brought the population of the factory centers to utter destitution. 
Similar conditions prevailed in the mines and mining towns. The 
life of the workers before 1830 seems to have been peculiarly 
wretched in the towns and mines of central England and m the 
factories of Lille, Rouen, Lyons, and Mulhouse in Fiance. The fac- 
tory owners were interested in keeping wages low. The gieat dif- 
ficulty of obtaining capital, most of which had to he saved out of 
the profits of the business, the necessity for improving the machinery, 
and the efforts to find markets taxed the resourcefulness of entre- 
preneurs bent only on pushing production to the utmost. To them it 
appeared that the rapid development of wealth in England and 
France was linked with the unhampered freedom of action of en- 
terprising business men. The employing class honestly believed that 
they were the benefactors of their employees, and that resistance 
to them amounted to ingratitude. Only a few radical thinkers 
seem to have been aware that while the factory system was begin- 
ning to increase the national wealth more rapidly than had any 
earlier economic system it was almost as rapidly decreasing na- 
tional well-being. 12 

In the face of oppressive work ing and living conditions, labor 
was just beginning to be cons cious of its own solidarity and power. 
Mutual benefit societies had long been in existence in the older 
skilled trades, such as tailoring, printing, and carpentry, by the end 
of the eighteenth century these societies in most of the states of 
western Europe had gradually extended their common inteiests 
from social activities and insurance provisions to matters of wages, 
hours, and working conditions. When trade-unions began to be 
organized in the factories, either as mutual benefit societies or 
secretly as what the French called societes de resistance , it was the 
skilled mechanics and operatives who took the lead. 

The governing classes, however, looked with great disfavor on 
t hiTmovement. D uring the revolution in France, when new privi- 
leges were being won by the middle class, the legislators proved 
to be interested only in ridding industry of surviving medieval 

12 For recent research cf. T. S. Ashton, Economic Histoty of England' iSth Cen 
(London, 1955). 


rcstr\‘.ri. 4 mid oi the cxccs^nc governmental control which had 
grow; jp in liie seuniecndi and eighteenth centuries. They had 
abohTeJ the hall-decayed guilds and had* cui down state inter- 
fere nee ’ n business. Rut die pmhhm^ of the wage-earners had not 
concerned t hem, and so i cartel had they been of all movements 
not (Needy controlled by the central go\ ernment that they had 
passed. law* agi-nst labor organizations. The Le Chapelier Law of 
1701 m France held that “cmzens of certain trades must not be per- 
nr-ttc 1 to assemble tor ihe.r pretended common interests. There is 
no ir rarer anv competition in. the state; there is but the particular 
interest of each ■nchsidual and the general interest. It is necessary 
to hv the principle that only by free contracts between in- 
dividual and. indwidual mav the working day for each workman 
be fixed.."’ 3 Other legislation completed this restriction. One article 
of the Napoleonic Code provided that in all circumstances “the 
master's word* is taken both for the rate and for the payment of 
wages." Each worker, moreover, was obliged to carry a hvret , 
a small book, in which was set down the time and place of his 
employment, die amount of his wages, and the conditions of his 
change from one employer to another. The livret had to be signed 
by the employer and by the mayor or the police. If the employer 
or the civil authorities refused to sign it, the worker had difficulty 
in finding employment. In England the behavior of the French 
revolutionaries had filled Parliament with a dread of all forms of 
popular association. As a result, Combination Acts were passed in 
1799 and in 1800 making it a criminal offense for workingmen to 
form associations with the object of securing improvement in the 
conditions of their labor. A further provision prohibited similar com- 
binations of employers against workmen, and arranged for com- 
pulsory arbitration, but these restrictions remained deaa letters on 
the statute books. 

The laws against trade-unions in France and England were not 
rigidly enforced, and the trade-union movement grew steadily. Since 
the existence of mutual benefit associations continued to be per- 
mitted by law, many labor unions hid behind this form of organiza- 

i*E Levasscur, H'tfmrc det classes ouwihcs ct dc Vtadusine cn France dc 1789 a 
1870 (2nd. Ml, Tans, isos'), I, 55 ; *ee also Paul Louis, Ihstoire de la classc 
ouvribre cn France (Pans, 1927), chap m 



tion, though the dues were so high that only the more skilled 
workers could afford to join. For a great mass of workers the only 
help obtainable was from charity and from state poor-relief. Private 
charity, both Catholic and Protestant, furnished some help by estab- 
lishing soup kitchens, mutual savings banks and charity schools. 
The history of poor-relief in this period shows that it was badly 
administered and that probably it did more to keep wages low than 
to relieve suffering. 

The only hope of the new proletarians, as they were beginning to 
realize, lay in developing the trade-union movement. Shut off from 
immediate contact with their employers, the industrial workers were 
being brought by the factory system into closer relationship among 
themselves. In the factory they found opportunity to discuss their 
low wages and long hours, and to form plans to force an ameliora- 
tion of industrial conditions. But, in this period, the hotbeds of 
proletarian discontent were not always in the factories. In England, 
in France, and in parts of Germany the greatest restlessness seems 
to have been in the districts where the home-workers were rising 
against the introduction of factories or against the low wages paid 
to craftsmen competing with the factories. Theirs was a losing fight. 
In the 1830’$ the struggle ended, at least in most industries, with 
the victory of the factory and the disappearance of the hand- 

The first change in the attitude of governments toward trade- 
unions appeared in England. Largely through the efforts of the 
scholarly tailor, Francis Place, and a group of Radicals in Parliament, 
the government in 1824 passed an act repealing the Combination 
Acts. A series of strikes followed, whereupon an amending law was 
passed in 1825 limiting the activities of trade combinations by the 
common law of conspiracy. These laws of 1824 and 1825 mark the 
first legal recognition of the right of collective bargaining. They 
stand as important milestones in the history of the working classes, 14 

The early decades of the nineteenth century saw also the enact- 
ment of the first factory acts. In 1802 the English Parliament passed 
a law restricting the employment of children apprenticed from the 
workhouses to twelve hours a day, forbidding their employment 

Graham Wallas, The Life of Francis Place (4th ed., London, 1925), is a classic. 



in night labor, and requiring the whitewashing of factory walls. A 
second factory act was passed in 1S19, partly through the efforts 
of Robert Owen. It i or bade the employment m cotton mills of chil- 
dren under nine years of age and fixed the working-day at twelve 
hours for all between the ages of nine and sixteen. The bill was 
attacked in Parliament on the ground that “all experience proves 
that in the lower orders of society the deterioration of morals in- 
creases with the quantity of unemployed time of which they have 
command. This bill actually encourages vice. It establishes idleness 
by act of Parliament.” 10 During the debate on the same bill in 
the House of Lords, one member declared that such laws were un- 
necessary because questions of this type should be “left entirely to 
the moral feelings of perhaps the most moral people on the face 
of the earth.” 10 In France, the governments of the period also began 
to show the first signs of interest in the welfare of the working 
classes. A law of 1S03 prohibited work in manufacturing establish- 
ments before three in the morning. Other laws regulating employ- 
ment in certain industries were from time to time put on the statute 
books. But the enforcement of all these laws was lax. That the 
problem was partly an international one seems to have been grasped 
first by Robert Owen, who in 1818 addressed a petition to the powers 
assembled at the Conference of Aix-la-Chapelle urging governments 
to fix a uniform working-day for the industrial workers of Europe. 
At the time the proposal was dismissed as quixotic. 

The legalizing of trade-unions in England and the earliest fac- 
tory legislation in both England and France represent the first re- 
action against the abuses of the new factory regime. Some of the 
delay in legislation on the new social problems seems to have been 
due to the inadequacy, at least in England, of governmental ma- 
chinery to handle such abuses. The unreformed constitution of 
England possessed no means of carrying out a policy of regulation 

v ~ > A n Ivninry *nto the Principle and Tendency of the BJl imposing Certain Restric- 
tions on Cotton Factories (London, 1S1S) 

10 On early labor organization ?nd social legislation in England, see the excellent ac- 
count of Sidney and Beatrice Webb, The ILsroiy of Ttadc Unionism (new ed , London, 
1926); also cf. A P Usher, An Introduction to the Industrial Histoyy of Enqland 
(Boston xgao) , 377 ft ; G D. H. Cole, A Snort History of the British Working 
Class Movement (New York, 1927), chaps iv and v; B. L Hutchins and A. Harrison, 
A Histoyy of Factory Legislation (3d edition, London, 1926), chaps. 11 and in; M. D 
George, “The Combination Laws Reconsidered,” Economic Journal, Economic History 
Senes, I, 1927, 214-22S. 


other than that of the old local parish, county, and town. No govern- 
ment had at the time any experience in dealing with these pioblems. 
The English Parliament did not adopt any systematic policy of 
favoring the factory owners, and the worst abuses of the early stages 
of the factory system were due in both France and England less 
to any definite design for using political machinery to exploit the 
industrial workers than to inexperience, to indifference, and to the 
fact that the leading figures in the government were still largely 
concerned with old political and religious issues left over from the 
eighteenth century. 


The overwhelming majority of the population of every European 
state from Ireland to Turkey and from Spam to Russia still lived 
on the land. The political and intellectual movements of the time 
affected the peasants even less than the lower bourgeoisie or the in- 
dustrial workers, yet their modes of working and living also were 
quietly undergoing a transformation. The old system of manorial 
tenure had begun to change in western Europe before the French 
Revolution. In England the extension of enclosures was modifying 
the method of land tenure and the economic status of the agricul- 
tural classes. On the continent the revolution merely hastened 
changes that had begun earlier. The peasant was with each decade 
becoming freer to rise in the world or to go under, freer to buy, 
to sell, and to mortgage his property, and freer to vary his methods 
of farming. The full results of these changes were not widely felt 
until after the middle of the nineteenth century, for in the country 
as in the towns the building of the first network of railroads, more 
than any other innovation, marked the division between the older 
economic order and the new. 

The evidences of agricultural change, as of industrial change, 
varied greatly from country to country, and often almost as gready 
from one district to another. It was still an age of economic localism, 
and hence generalizations are difficult. But in general it is true that, 
while the English peasants were losing their lands and their eco- 
nomic independence through the extension of enclosures, the 
peasants In western Europe were finding their condition improving 


through emancipation from a feudal status and through new oppor- 
tunities for acquiring hind. In nearly c\ery state of western Europe 
there were roughly three claves of peasants — small freeholders, 
renters, and agricultural da\ -laborers. These categories, however, 
were not mutually exclusive. For example, a freeholder or a renter 
might on certain days of the week lure himself out as a dav-laborer, 
or a peasant might own part of the land which he worked and 
might rent another part. But the tendency of the agricultural classes 
in western Europe to divide into these groups is clearly revealed by 
detailed studies of the agrarian life of the time. 

The agricultural transformation in England and its connection 
with the contemporaneous industrial development has long been a 
matter of dispute among economic historians. The view has been 
widely held that the second phase of die enclosure movement, which 
began about 1750, resulted in the great impoverishment of the 
yeomanry, that is, of the small landowners. The large landholders 
were able to call a meeting of property owners in a given district 
and, since voting power varied With the size of holdings, they 
were able to secure the four-fifths vote ncccssaiy to petition Parlia- 
ment to enclose the old open fields and common lands. A private 
act could then be passed. A board of three to seven commissioners, 
appointed from the local magnates, carried through the work of 
enclosure, usually reassigning the land in solid blocks. So the old 
three-field system of strip-farming, which had come down from the 
Middle Ages, disappeared. The small farmers soon found that they 
had too few acres to support themselves. Their greatest loss was 
the common lands on which they had been accustomed to feed 
their poultry, to pasture a cow, and to cut their fuel. Popular re- 
sentment against enclosures was aptly expressed in the rhyme: 

The law locks up the man or woman 

Who steals the goose from off the common; 

But leaves the greater villain loose 

Who steals the common from the goose* 

Thousands of peasants were obliged to sell out to the larger pro- 
prietors and to become day-laborers, or else go to the cities to work 
in the factories. Even those who were able to maintain themselves 
on their holdings found their position more precarious than before. 



Their products had to compete with those of the huger estates where 
improved methods were rapidly being introduced. In the period we 
are here considering, less than fifteen per cent of the land belonged 
to those who lived on it and tilled it. 1 * 

The cottage textile worker was bound, sooner or later, to follow 
the yeoman class to extinction. The cottagers who divided then- 
time between farming and weaving were devoting themselves to 
forms of industry that were rapidly becoming outmoded. As crafts- 
men they were competing with a more efficient type of manufac- 
ture, and as tillers of the soil they could not hope to hold out against 
the more economical, large-scale farming. Many of them survived 
beyond the period here discussed, but large numbers were obliged 
to give up their occupation and their old way of living and to enlist 
in the ranks of the agricultural or industrial proletariat. 18 

The rapid growth of an unpropertied working class on the land 
and in the towns presented the English government with a serious 
social problem. The remedy first applied was that of wholesale poor- 
relief. The type of relief in general use at the time was that devised 
by a group of Berkshire magistrates who met at Spcenhamland in 
1795. Their program provided that wages, where they were inade- 
quate, should be supplemented by contributions from the poor- 
rates, these contributions varying with the size of the family and 
with the price of bread. This Speenhamland plan, though never 
applied to the larger cities, was almost universally adopted in the 
country districts. Relief was distributed on a lavish scale, with the 
result that everywhere wages and relief became completely con- 
fused. Wages remained so low that most agricultural laborers were 
forced to go on the rates. Since the larger landowners preferred not 
to engage independent workers, lest they demand higher wages, it 
became hard for a worker not on the rates to find employment. 
The governing classes accepted the system and even praised it, be- 

17 E. Davies, "The Small Landowner, 1780-1832,” Economic History Review f I (1927), 
87-113. For the rest the reader may be referred to the leading treatments: Gilbert 
Slater, The English Peasantry and the Enclosure of Common Fields (London, 1907); 
Arthur H. Johnson, The Disappearance of the Small Landowner (Oxford, 1909), chap, 
v; E C K. Gonner, Common Land and Inclosure (London, 19x2); J L. and B Hammond, 
The Village Labourer, 1760-1832 (London, 1912), chaps, iii to v; W. H. R Curtler, 
The Enclosure and Redistribution of our Land (Oxford, 1920). 

18 See especially W. Hasbach, The History of the English Agricultural Labourer (Lon- 
don, 190S), clap 11 


cause in their opinion it averted a revolution. Wages fell in England 
after 1815, while prices rose. The peasantry steadily degenerated 
under the eyes of landowners who were doubling their incomes— 
landowners who denounced Cobhett as an “incendiary” because, 
when no one else dared, he pointed out the contrast. 10 

Even worse was the condition of the peasantry in Ireland. The 
landlords were mostly absentees, and the great estates were under 
the management of agents who were allowed a certain percentage 
of the income. Neither the agent nor the proprietor had any interest 
in the peasants beyond that of grinding the last farthing out of 
them. Taxes were heavy and a part of them went to support the 
hated Anglican clergy. The ordinary food of the Irish peasants was 
the potato, the yield of which from year to year was very uncertain. 
Famine and unrest were common, and many of the country dis- 
tricts were in a state of chronic anarchy. 20 

On the continent the position of the agricultural classes was im- 
proving. A movement to emancipate the peasants had begun in the 
eighteenth century. Many of them changed their status from serf 
to renter by purchasing their freedom over a period of years. They had 
been thus emancipated in Savoy, in Lorraine, in Switzerland, and 
in Baden. During the same period the peasants in France, most of 
whom had ceased centuries before to be serfs, were improving their 
status by reclaiming waste lands and by purchasing small lots of 
land from impoverished nobles. These slow and evolutionary 
changes were greatly accelerated by the French Revolution. In 
France itself the peasants were freed from a mass of feudal burdens, 
the system of taxation was readjusted to their advantage, and the 
internal customs boundaries were abolished. The state, by throwing 
a large number of confiscated estates on the market, gave the 
peasants better opportunities to buy land. It is true that most of the 
lands confiscated from the emigres and the church passed first into 
the hands of bourgeois speculators. Nevertheless, they came eventu- 

19 The classic study of the poor-laws Is that of Sidney J. Webb, English Poor Lazv His- 
tory (London, 1927), I; but see also Hammond, The Village Labourer, chaps vu 
to ix, and E. M. Hampson, The Treatment of Poverty in Cambridgeshire (Cam- 
bridge, 1034) 

20 A good account is that of J E Pom fret. The Struggle for Land in Ireland, 
1800-1923 (Princeton, 1930), chap. i. 



ally into peasant hands, so that in the course of the nineteenth 
(century the acreage became more widely distributed among the 
agricultural population in France than in any other country." 1 

These changes of the revolutionary period were not confined to 
France. The states of western Germany became lands of small 
peasant proprietors. Feudal dues were commuted to fixed rents, and 
the peasant was made free to move, to buy land, and to cultivate 
his acres as he would. The liberation of the serfs by the French 
administration in western Germany was reflected during the Napo- 
leonic wars by reforms in Prussia. Edicts of 1807, of 1S11, and of 
1816 abolished serfdom, and permitted peasants to buy and to sell 
property. They also provided that, for certain types of tenure, the 
surrender of a third or a half of the holding to the lord would 
secure the peasant full ownership of the rest. The edicts were car- 
ried out in a dilatory fashion, and the conditions of acquiring owner- 
ship proved to be so costly that only a small number of the wealthier 
peasants in western Prussia became landowners. In eastern Prussia 
the land remained in the control of the Junkers who lived in 
manorial style on their vast estates, exercising almost dictatorial 
powers over their peasants. 22 

In Spain and in the southern half of the Italian peninsula the 
agricultural classes lived in a wretched condition. Under the French 
regime feudalism was abolished and the peasants were converted, 
at least on paper, into one form or another of renters. But no provi- 
sions were made for allowing them to acquire land. After 1815, 

21 Cf. the three excellent studies by G. Lefebvre, Lcs pay sans du Nord pendant la 
Revolution frangaise (2 vols, Pans, 1924), “Recherches relatives a la -'"-tV-o*' /!.< H 
propriete et de P exploitation fonciere a la fin de l’ancien regime,” V —» . e, i-..,.* 
moderne, 1928, and “Place de la Revolution dans Huston e agraire de la France,” Anna lcs 
d’histoire economique et sociale, 1929. Cf. also M G. Hottenger, La Lorraine econortuquc 
au lendemain de la Revolution (Nancy, 1924), 39 ff,; and Rene Durand, La depart ement 
des Cotes-du^Nord sous le Consulat et V Empire (2 vols., Paris, 1926). A general 
account is that of Henri See, La vie economique de la France sous la monarchie censitaire 
(Pans, 1927), chap. 1. 

22 The standard account is that of G. F. Knapp, Die (and edition 

Munich, 1927), I, passim ; but see also Theodor Freihe \o-. di G > /. Getschichie 
der deutschen Landwirtschaft (2 vols., Stuttgart, 1903), Part IV, secs, h and lii; and 
Werner Sombart, Die deutsche V olkszoirtschaft im igten Jahrhundert (7th edition, 
Berlin, 1927), 27 ff , 45 ff* Among special studies may be mentioned, for conditions 
in western Germany, H. Aubin and others, Geschichte des Rheinlandcs (2 vols., Essen, 
1922), II, 137 ff*; for eastern Germany J. Ziekursch, Hundert Jahre schlesischcr 
A grar geschichte (2nd edition, Breslau, 1927), chaps, vi to viii, and Karl Bohme, 
Gu tsherrlich- bauerh ch e Verhaltnisse in Ostpreussen wahrend der Reformzeit von 1770 
bis 1830 (Berlin, 1902). 


though the feudal regime was not technically restored, the peasantry 
continued for several generations in much the same condition as in 
the eighteenth century. In the more backward parts of the Hapsburg 
lands, in the Balkans, and in Russia the status of the peasants was 
perhaps wor^e than it had ever been in England and France in 
the Middle Ages. The agrarian conditions in Russia were about as 
bad as any in Europe. The whole economic structure rested on serf- 
dom. Little industry or banking or commerce existed and no 
middle class stood between the nobles and the mass of agricultural 
laborers. The powers of the aristocracy were almost absolute. The 
government had come to depend on the nobles to supply recruits 
for the army, and to act as financial agents in collecting the taxes. 
This explains the encouragement given by the Russian state to the 
growth of the landowner’s authority which went on steadily in spite 
of projects of Paul and of Alexander I for improving the lot of 
the peasants. Although it was against the letter of the Russian law, 
the noble often sold his serfs apart from the land, beat them as he 
would, and if angry sent them to Siberia or even put them to death. 
The serfs in Poland had been freed by Napoleon, and those in the 
Baltic provinces were gradually emancipated, hut in neither case 
were they able to acquire ownership of the land. As renters they 
remained an agricultural proletariat . 23 

While in western Europe the legal status of the peasant was 
slowly changing, an important transformation in agricultural meth- 
ods was also taking place. The lead in this had been taken in Eng- 
land in the eighteenth century, but the new methods soon spread 
to the continent. Root crops, potatoes, turnips, and beets were being 
grown in greater quantities, particularly on the larger estates, and 
artificial meadows of clover, lucerne, and rye-grass were introduced 
instead of fallow for renewing the soil. Deep-plowing, drill-sowing, 
machine-hoeing, and tile-draining all came into wider use. The 
abandonment of the wasteful three-field system, the use of new 
crops, and the improved methods of cultivation greatly augmented 
the productivity of the acreage. At the same time these improve- 
ments furnished more food for live stock, whose increase in turn 

23 A good picture of the old regime is given in James Mavor, An Economic History of 
Russia (2nd ed. 2 vols, London, 1926), I, chaps. 11 to iv; and m G T. Robinson, 
Rural Russia under the Old Regime (New Yoik, 1932), chaps, xi to iv 



provided more fertilizer for the soil. Great advances were also made 
in the methods of stock-breeding. The new agriculture stood for 
experimentation and observation in place of ignorance and the use 
of old routine methods. It represented a better cooperation with 
nature, and a thorough working of the soil to its advantage in place 
of the older soil-scratching which was usually to its detriment. Wher- 
ever the new methods were introduced they made necessary the 
abandonment of the old three-field system, and in some regions, 
especially in England, the change worked to the disadvantage of 
the peasants. 24 

On the continent the adoption of these new agricultural methods 
was slow. In nearly every country, even in Russia, gentlemen 
farmers established large experimental farms. The writings of the 
English pioneers, Jethro Tull, Bakewell, and Coke, and of their 
German followers, Thaer and Thunen, circulated among the great 
continental landowners, especially in France, in northern Italy, and 
in East Prussia. On some of the large farms capital and science 
were being applied exactly as they were to industry. Gentlemen 
farmers, like Ridolfi and Cavour in Italy, after using the new agri- 
cultural methods on their estates, had their interest awakened to 
the need of a transformation of the industrial and political order. 
Others, like Mathieu de Dombasle in Lorraine, issued pamphlets 
describing their experiments in stock-breeding, in cropping, and in 
the use of improved machinery. The movement to improve agricul- 
ture was, however, greatly retarded by the small holdings in France 
and in western Germany, where the cultivators could not afford 
the improved machinery, and everywhere by the conservatism of 
the peasants and by the lack of markets for increased agricultural 
yields. 25 

The agricultural changes of the period, like the industrial changes, 
were checkered by the extraordinary fluctuation in prices due to 
the long wars and the sudden return to peace in 1814 and 1815. The 
agriculturists of every state found their markets disorganized, and 
north of the Alps the large landowners, who dominated all the 

24 A good brief account may be found in Norman S. B. Gras, A History of Agricub 
ture (New York, 1925), chap. ix. 

23 Cf. Henri See, Esquisse d’une histoire du regime agraire en Europe aux xwii 9 et xtx° 
stkcles (Paris, 1921). 



governments of the time, clamored for high tariffs to maintain their 
local monopolies. England, France, Russia, and some of the smaller 
states raised their tariffs soon after 1815 to protect domestic agricul- 
tural products. The first decade after Waterloo was marked in 
nearly every state by much agricultural distress due at times to 
bad harvests (especially in 1816-17) and again to great overproduc- 
tion. During such crises, Ireland and central and southern Germany 
sent hundreds of emigrants to America. In England highway rob- 
bery, poaching, petty thieving, and rick-burnmg were so common 
that large sections of the countryside remained in an almost con- 
tinuous state of anarchy until the reforms of the local police system 
in the 1830's and 1840’s. 

Despite all the changes noted in the life of the agricultural 
classes, none had worked itself out by 1830. The daily life of the 
peasant was still very much what it had been in the eighteenth cen- 
tury. Intellectual inertia, incessant manual labor, and unbroken 
routine marked his existence. The peasant accepted his lot and 
rarely questioned the organization of society. Nothing was more 
foreign to him than the modern idea that all must be change and 
progress. The peasants lived almost universally in small villages, 
where they shared their roofs with the live stock and poultry. The 
better houses had stone floors instead of dirt, glass in the windows, 
copper and pewter instead of wooden utensils, and some substantial 
cupboards and tables. Meat on the table, the wearing of leather 
shoes, and a cupboard full of linen, the family’s pride, were the 
marks of an affluent family. 

On the continent the medieval three-field system was still com- 
mon, except in Italy where it was never prevalent. This method of 
cultivation, in which all had to sow and reap at the same time, was 
very wasteful because it used fallow to replenish the soil, and 
because so much land had to be set aside for paths and for fences. 
Nowhere were there enough animals for the farm work, for food, 
and for fertilizer. The farm machinery used by the average peasant 
was clumsy and inefficient, and the harvesting was done with scythes 
and the threshing with flails. The peasant was his own baker and 
butcher. He spun and wove his own wool and flax and repaired 
his own house and tools. Often he supplemented his income by 



making soap, wooden utensils and shoes, knives, or even toys and 
clocks which were exchanged with the neighbors or sold on the 
weekly market. He suffered from epidemics; sickness was common; 
doctors were rare. When schools existed at all they were poor. Few 
peasants could read. Local dialects, costumes, and strange supersti- 
tions, many of them centuries old, continued to be indicative of the 
extreme localism of country life. The chief figure in the village was 
the priest or the pastor. The great occasions for the whole com- 
munity were religious holidays, and for the family circle mar- 
riages and funerals. The peasants showed little interest in politics 
except when political changes threatened to affect land tenure. 
Nearly everywhere they remained devoted to the church — un- 
doubtedly one of the chief reasons for the failure of most of the 
revolutionary movements in the period from 1815 to 1850. 


In considering the social structure as a whole it becomes clear 
that neither the early stages of industrialism in England and France, 
nor the upheaval of the French Revolution had, even in western 
Europe, created an essentially new society. The traditional class lines 
had become blurred, but were not effaced. A transformation of the 
life of the English peasants was being effected through the enclosure 
movement. On the continent the French Revolution had in some 
states modified the legal status of the peasants and their method 
of landholding. At the same time, improved systems of cultivation 
were coming into use. Nevertheless, the great mass of the peasantry 
continued to follow in a routine of life in which their ancestors 
of the thirteenth century could easily have found a place. Indeed, 
Virgil’s Roman peasant would have found much that was familiar: 
“Often doth the driver of the slow-moving ass load his back with 
oil-jars or with cheap apples, and, returning from the town bring 
back a grindstone or a mass of swarthy pitch.” 26 After 1830 five 
years of the railroad produced more visible changes in agricultural 
life than had several decades of emancipation. 

Eastern Europe was almost entirely an agricultural world, far 
behind western Europe in economic and intellectual development. 

86 Georgies , I, 1 . 273 ff. 


A handful of the aristocracy in Hungary, Poland, and Russia af- 
fected French or English ideas which they often misunderstood. The 
economic activity of the towns had hardly changed for centuries; 
exports were mainly raw products; the mines were largely un- 
worked; manufactures were rarely on a large scale; and transporta- 
tion was hindered by the wretched state of the roads and by the 
almost total lack of canals. There was no large or widely distributed 
middle class interested m banking, manufacturing, schools, and news- 
papers. The ciergy and the nobility ruled the masses with an iron 
hand. This sinking contrast between the east and the west of 
Europe— a line drawn from the mouth of the Elbe to the Adriatic 
roughly marked the division — must always he borne in mind m any 
consideration of the general social, political, and cultural situation. 

In western Europe the bourgeoisie was extending its economic 
power by improved methods of manufacture and by better means 
of communication. But the influence of the middle class was every- 
where limited, as before 1789, by the presence of the aristocracy, the 
clergy, and the peasantry. The tendency of the business world to 
dominate all classes and to impose its philosophy of life on every 
social group was only beginning to appear. In some centers in 
England, France, and the Low Countries the suffering among 
the working classes was beginning to attract the attention of a few 
reformers, but the proletarian problem was still of only minor sig- 
nificance m the social situation of the time. In every state the popu- 
lation was increasing, chiefly because of the lowering of the death 
rate due to the progress of medicine, and in the towns to improved 
sewage and hospital service. 27 

What had changed since the eighteenth century, however, was 
not so much the economic and social organization of society as its 
intellectual outlook. The changes wrought by the French Revolu- 
tion had everywhere started discussion of further changes. Men 
were more inclined than ever before either to defend or to question 
the validity of olcl ways of thinking and living. The philosophers 

27 Of the inctease of the pooulptio* t^c-e is no doubt, but authoritative writers have 
not yet come to any aqi co-mth -egr-d 'ir J,, e explanation of tlr* Among - re- 
cent writings the following a-e p: -ticuh dv illuminating G ■'* ■' Population 

Problems of the Aoe of Mufti (CainV.cge, 1926), M C Buo, Health , WeaHk and 
Population xn the Early Day/s of the 1 ndnstxicl Rci'olution (London, 1926); T H Mai- 
shall, “The Population Problem dui mg the Industrial Revolution,’ ” Economic Journal , 
Economic History Series , IV, 1929, 429-456. 


of the eighteenth century had spread the idea that change was de- 
sirable and the revolutionary era had given striking evidence that 
it was possible. This inspired some classes to hope for further ad- 
vances and aroused others to oppose change bitterly. Moreover, the 
constant movements of the armies during twenty-five years of 
campaigning had brought the nations into closer contact with one 
another. This intermingling was particularly important in spreading 
ideas of western Europe among the intellectual classes of central 
and eastern Europe. Taking Europe as a whole, it is this profound 
difference in the intellectual climate rather than any striking eco- 
nomic or political change that makes the life of the period from 
Waterloo to the Reform Bill of 1832 so different from life as it 
had been before the French Revolution. 

Chapter Three 


The early nineteenth century was characterized by a strong reac- 
tion against the ideals of the Enlightenment. The French Revolu- 
tion, which had delighted Kant in his old age because it enabled 
a great people to create its own constitution, now seemed to many 
to be a purely destructive movement capable of creating nothing. 
The Jacobins, in the name of reason, had acted most irrationally, 
and in the name of humanity had behaved most inhumanly. The 
belief in the natural perfectibility of man seemed to have led only 
to untold bloodshed and misery. The whole post-Napoleomc genera- 
tion lay under the shadow of a great disillusionment. 

Even the men who had made the revolution had grown afraid 
of it, afraid that they had destroyed not only the machinery of 
government but also the moral authority necessary for any kind of 
rule; afraid that they had left the road open only to anarchy or 
to the establishment of military dictatorship. The monarchs, the 
clergy, and the aristocracy — the groups which had suffered most 
from the revolutionary upheaval — detested its ideals most heartily. 
And there was after the wars a general and widespread weariness 
of intellectual analysis combined with an appeal to faith, to senti- 
ment, to history, in fact to anything that ran counter to the ideals 
of the Enlightenment. The intellectual classes were oppressed with 
a sense of spiritual vacuum, the wed du siecle, which put its stamp 
on some of the greatest works of literature. Goethe’s Faust — a vivid 
symbol of the age — found his soul dying within him after his long 
search for purely intellectual knowledge; he renewed his life through 
sentiment, dreams, and finally through action. Madame de Stael, 
one of the greatest literary influences of the early nineteenth cen- 
tury, declared in a similar strain: “I do not know exactly what we 
must believe, but I believe that we must believe^ The eighteenth 
century did nothing but deny. The human spirit lives by its beliefs. 



5 ° 

Acquire faith through Christianity, or through German philosophy, 
or merely through enthusiasm, but believe m something.” 1 It would 
be hard to imagine a more complete repudiation of the attitude and 
ideals of the pre-revolutionary thinkers. 


The reaction against the Enlightenment was heralded by popular 
religious and literary movements like Pietism, Methodism, and 
Romanticism. During the last decade of the eighteenth century it 
appeared in a more substantial form in the writings of a group of 
theorists who attacked revolutionary ideas in the name of tradition. 
Finally it found its fullest philosophic statement in the work of 
the German Idealist Philosophers. A study of the origins of this 
reaction shows that it was not merely the result of the experiences 
of the revolution. For over a century it had accompanied the de- 
velopment of modern science and philosophy, and its steady growth 
was symptomatic of the unwillingness of large numbers of men 
to accept the general conclusions of the prophets of the Enlighten- 
ment. Its earliest popular form was Pietism, which had first appeared 
in the Lutheran churches of Germany in the later seventeenth cen- 
tury as a protest against the arid dogmatism of the ruling theolo- 
gians. In order to combat religious intellectualism, the leaders of the 
movement had endeavored to kindle the flame of Christian mys- 
ticism. They delighted in belittling human reason, which they de- 
nounced as piesump'-uthis and irreligious. They laid great emphasis 
on those types of Bible study and devotional exercises which would 
develop a highly emotional religious outlook, and they carried their 
gospel to the masses by founding schools and institutions for the 
care of the poor and of orphans. Their missionaries went through- 
out Germany preaching an ardently emotional faith. Most thorough- 
going were the Moravian Brethren, one of whom in 1738 converted 
John Wesley to “the religion of the heart.” 

The piety evoked by the movement often contained an element 
of moroseness. On the intellectual side it encouraged a narrow out- 

1 Emile Faguet, Pohtiques ct moralistes du XIX sikcle, 2® serie (Paris, 1895), 232. 
The same mood is brilliantly descubed in the opening chapter of Alfred de Musset’s 
Confession d'un enfant du stecle . 


look and a disdainful attitude toward public affairs and toward 
scientific and artistic culture. Yet the influence of the Pietists on Ger- 
man thought, and through Methodism on English thought, was 
profound. They captured the leading positions in some of the 
Protestant theological schools, notably at the University of Halle. 
The movement produced hundreds of devotional pamphlets and 
books, a type of literature which in sheer quantity outclassed every 
other form of publication in eighteenth-century Germany. The 
Pietistic point of view to some degree influenced the thought of 
Lessing, Herder, Goethe, Kant, and the other German Idealists, 
as well as that of Novalis and the leaders of the German romantic 
school. It affected the world of German Freemasonry through the 
spread of Rosicrucianism, a mystic doctrine that abhorred logic and 
science, and, in the last years of the century, attacked the whole 
ideology of the French Revolution. Rosicrucian ideals were es- 
pecially cultivated in Berlin where the king, Frederick William II, 
became a devotee. Finally, much of the reaction against what was 
considered “the dry-rot of rationalism,” as also the positive emphasis 
of the German romanticists on the affinity of poetry and religion, 
came originally from Pietism, above all from Jakob Bohrne (1575- 
1624), the great progenitor of this movement. 

The influence of Pietism on practical politics is very evident in 
the decades after 1800, though so diffused that it is frequently dif- 
ficult to trace. It is most clearly shown in the growth of millenanan- 
ism between 1800 and 1815. In these years the belief grew in 
Germany and in a number of the royal courts of northern Europe 
that a man would be raised up in the north who would overthrow 
the Antichrist (Napoleon) and prepare the way for the second 
advent of Christ and the establishment of His thousand years’ rule 
upon earth. One Pietist prophet, Jung-Stilling, who had a large 
following in the royal courts of Baden and Sweden, preached this 
strange gospel with especial persuasiveness. He believed that certain 
persons, among them himself, possessed the faculty of communicat- 
ing directly with the spiritual world, and he found in a literal in- 
terpretation of the Bible vague prophecies of the downfall of Napo- 
leon. In this he was not alone for, at the turn of the century, this 
type of Pietistic mysticism hung over Germany like a fog. Similar 



prophets were found in every social rank. Sovereign rulers and 
members of the highest aristoeiacy were attracted by their teachings. 
As the Napoleonic empire began to crumble com visions and visions 
increased. 2 

While staying at Karlsruhe in 1808, Jung-Slilling was visited by 
a Russian noblewoman, the Baroness von Krudencr, a strange ad- 
venturess who three years eat her had been converted by an ardent 
disciple of the Moravian Brethien. She came to believe that the latter 
days were about to be accomplished, and that she had been called 
by God to save the world. By 1811 she was widely known on the 
continent for her extravagant chanties and her weird eloquence. 
Her appearance wherever she went — whether it was to visit a 
monarch or to seek out die Alsatian pastor, Jean Frederic Oberlin, 
to draw up with his help an elaborate map of the Kingdom of 
Heaven — was the occasion for an outbreak of visions and prophecies. 
In June, 1815, she accomplished her ambition of meeting Alexander 
I of Russia, whose interest in this type of apocalyptic thought was 
widely known. The baroness found the tsar musing over an open 
Bible. For three hours she preached her strange gospel while the 
most powerful monarch in Europe sat weeping until at last he de- 
clared he had found peace. She followed him to Paris where for 
months, in a house near the imperial lodging, she conducted daily 
prayer-meetings. These were attended not only by the tsar, but 
also by a number of other monarchs and some of the best known 
members of Parisian society, Chateaubriand, Benjamin Constant, 
Mme. Recamier, and the Duchesse de Duras. The odd furnishings 
of her apartments, even the dials of the clocks, were draped with 
gray cloth during the sessions of prayer, while the baroness herself 
affected a kind of monastic costume. Mme. Recamier was told to 
make herself as plain as possible “so as not to trouble souls.” The 
prophetess pretended to be guided in all her revelations by a mys- 
terious mentor, “the Voice.” In this strange religious atmosphere, 
the idea of the Holy Alliance grew to a precocious maturity. 3 

2 See the excellent study by Hans R. G, Gunther, Jung-S tilling, ein Bcitrag sur 
Psychologic des dcutschen Pietismus (Munich, 1928) 

8 Cf. E. J. Knapton, Julie de Krudencr (New York, 1939), A. Viatte, Lcs sources 
occultes de romantisme {2 v 61s., Paris, 1928), and F. Buchler, Die gcistigen Wuracln 
der Keihgen Allianz (Freiburg, 1929); the work of Knapton contains much valuable 
bibliographical material. 


Though Pietism produced fantastic visionaries like Jung-Stillmg 
and the Baroness von Krudcner, it was at the same time the leading 
influence in the thought of Schleicrnucher, the greatest of modern 
theologians. Educated in a school of the Moravian Brethren, he 
went as a young man from this deeply pious atmosphere to the 
University or Halle. His study of Kant aroused his interest in the 
philosophy of the Enlightenment which served to temper his earlier 
Pietism. I11 1796 he settled in Berlin where he became a friend or 
Friedrich Schlegel, Novalis, Tieck, Fichte, and Schcllmg. The fruit 
of these first years 111 Berlin was his Addresses on Religion zo the 
Educated who Despise n (1799), his most influential work and one 
which marks an epoch in the history of German opinion. Appeal- 
ing to those who m the name of science reject religion, he en- 
deavored to show that a scientific culture is not irreconcilable with 
the religious and mystical spirit. Religion, as he defined it, is not a 
system of thought but an inner experience, the greatest that life 
may offer. Like the contemporary Genie du Chiistiamsme of 
Chateaubriand, his writing and preaching helped to make religion 
and tradition respectable among the intellectual classes. Schleicr- 
machcr, however, never advocated political or religious reaction. At 
times he attacked both. Nevertheless, he undoubtedly helped in- 
directly to prepare the way in Germany for such reaction by throw- 
mg the weight of his authority against the great assumptions of 
eighteenth-century thought. 1 

Pietism at the same time was contributing to the growth of the 
religious revival in the German Catholic Church. Baader, the 
leading Catholic theologian, like the Pietists, was profoundly in- 
fluenced by the writings of Bohme. His best known work, Fennenta 
Cogmtioms (1822-1825), an attack on the fundamental position of 
the German Idealist Philosophers, won him a professorship in the 
University of Munich where he became one of the founders of a 
powerful German Catholic party. Although Baader never gave a 
systematic statement of his ideas, he started with the assumption 
that human reason itself can never reach the end at which it aims. 
Thus men are not justified in trying to throw aside the presupposi- 

4 Cf Ernst Musebeck, Schlctcimachci in dcr Gachichte do StaaUidcc (Berlin, 1927), 
K. Pinson, Pietism as c Factor in the Rise of German Nationalism (New York, 1934), 
and R. B. Brandt, The Philosophy of Schlcici nvachci (New Yoik, 1941). 



tions of faith, church, and tradition. Moreover, society should possess 
an organic unity and every member must give up his individuality 
for the sake of the whole. Authority and faith, the fundamental 
bases of such a society, are found only in the universal Catholic 
Church. To make the individual independent in thought and action, 
and to establish a direct relation between him and the state can 
only lead to anarchy. 

Although a reactionary in politics, Baader’s views on social prob- 
lems — like those of his contemporaries, Southey and Ballanche — 
were rather advanced. He maintained that revolutionary sentiments 
are due not to the faults of the government but to the poverty of 
the masses. The worker is enslaved by the owners of capital, and 
the social problem should be solved by giving the proletariat a sys- 
tem of representation, through which the workers might make their 
grievances known. Baader’s influence, however, like that of Schleier- 
macher, was primarily on theology .' 5 

English Methodism, even more clearly than German Pietism, was 
a revolt against the deism, skepticism, and democratic thought of 
the eighteenth century, although the movement produced no thinker 
of the caliber of Schleiermacher. Largely under the influence of 
Pietism, the leaders of Methodism had revived the venerable 
Protestant doctrine of justification by faith, and had set out “to 
spread holiness over the land,” The movement created among the 
thousands who were converted to it a highly emotionalized outlook 
and a great preoccupation with problems of personal salvation. The 
Methodists propagated their faith by crude methods; their religious 
services often led to outbreaks of collective hysteria which would 
continue for days . 6 Their preaching converted thousands to a dis- 
trust of the rationalism and the republicanism of the older types of 
English nonconformity. 

Methodist leaders found their greatest following among small 
shopkeepers, artisans, and agricultural laborers, though by the early 
nineteenth century the ideas and attitudes of the movement had 
permeated all the dissenting sects, as well as the Anglican Church 

8 Cf. D. Bauragardt, Baader und die phlowphisch-e Romantik (Halle, 1927). 

* An example of the exaggerations which characterized the movement is that of the 
Methodist prophetess, Joanna Southcott, who in 1814 was the talk of London because 
she was promising at the age of sixty-five to become the mother of a Son of God. 


itself. Like Pietism in Germany, it modified the whole intellectual 
outlook of the English nation. Its doctrines stressed the necessity 
of preserving order in society, and the need for loyalty to the public 
authorities. This political and social philosophy is clearly reflected 
m the Statutes of the Wesleyan Body of 1792 which expressly de- 
manded of its members loyalty and obedience to the government. 
“None of us,” says this declaration, “shall either in writing or in 
conversation speak lightly or irreverently of the government. We are 
to observe that the oracles of God command us to be subject to the 
higher powers.”' In the minds of the leaders all ideas of political 
or social liberalism were hopelessly compromised because those who 
advocated them were often atheists. In the opinion of Lecky and 
of other more recent historians like Halevy the influence of 
Methodism was one of the chief forces which spared England a 
revolution in the years 1789 to 1815. By supporting the existing 
social and political powers and by diverting attention from the 
problems of contemporary society to those of personal salvation, 
it continued to retard reform in the decades that followed. 

As a current of opinion, wide in its influence but difficult to 
define, the romantic movement is comparable to Pietism and to 
Methodism. All three were emotional and, to a less extent, intel- 
lectual reactions against the prevailing attitudes and ideas of the 
Enlightenment. Romanticism, however, cannot be identified with 
any particular political or social doctrine. 8 In the early period of 
its development, literary romanticism was favorable to free-thought 
and democracy. The French Revolution had passed through its first 
stages before the leaders of the movement began to go over to the 
side of reaction. But once the current had set in, only a few isolated 
romantic writers of the generation who experienced the revolution, 

7 Minutes of the Methodist Conferences (London, 1812), X, 270. John Wesley 
himself was very conservative in his political views He once wrote “The greater the 
share the people have in the government, the less liberty, civil or religious, does a people 
enjoy. Accordingly, there is most liberty in a monarchy, less under an aristocracy, and 
least under a democracy ” 

8 “Trust your genius; follow your noble heart; change your doctrine whenever your 
heart changes, and change your heart often Such is the practical creed of Romanticism ” 
josiah Royce, The Spirit of Modern Philosophy (Boston, 1892), 173. In its wider 
aspects, the romantic movement contained a many-sided complex of ideas and attitudes, 
and the eai Her stages of its histoiy concealed the beginnings of many divergent lines of 
development It should be noted that here the movement is treated m only one of these 
aspects and in but one period of its history. 


5 6 

Hazlitt in England, Mmc. do StacI in Fra nee, and Cine! he m Ger- 
many, escaped conversion to ieaaion. In the iSao's, however, the 
young generation oi romanticists again espoused libera! ideas. 

The career of Chateauhriaml is typical and of special interest 
because his influence on Fiench letters overshadows that oC all the 
literary men of Ins generation. As a young man he was deeply in- 
fluenced by the writings of Bossuet, Montesquieu, Voltaire, and 
above all, Rousseau. Out of the experiences of privation and exile 
which he suffered in the French Revolution he was converted to 
an ardent Christian faith, and in 1S02 he published his Gcme du 
chnstianisme. In this work, which, significantly enough, was origi- 
nally called Beautes de la religion chretienne , he poured out un- 
qualified praise for the past glories of the Catholic Church, and 
insisted on the necessity of the return o£ mankind to its fold. The 
argument is founded on emotional conviction and the religion of 
the heart, borrowed largely from the confession of faith of the 
Savoyard vicar in Rousseau’s Emile . Chateaubriand regarded this 
rhapsody as a satisfactory defense of Christianity against the conten- 
tion of the eighteenth century that Christianity was a barbarous 
system which retarded the progress of the race. Flc presented it as 
the religion most favorable to civilization, and tried to demonstrate 
that the modern world is indebted to it for every improvement from 
agriculture to the most abstract sciences. The most positive political 
idea that the book contains is its defense of the papacy and its 
frank ultramontanism. “If there exists in the midst of Europe a 
tribunal which in the name of God may judge the nations and their 
rulers and may prevent wars and revolutions, it is the papacy. . . . 
If Rome understands her position she has before her the most bril- 
liant destiny .” 9 

Chateaubriand’s role in this reverie was evidently not that of the 
theorist. This task, as we shall see, fell to Joseph de Maistre and to 
Bonald. The mission of Chateaubriand was rather to recruit the 
forces of sentiment through the medium of art. His new Christianity 
was, in the words of Georg Brandes, “a parade religion, a tool for 
the politician, a lyre for the poet, a symbol for the philosopher, a 

0 Chateaubriand, Genie du chnstianisme, Part IV, chap. 6. Cf. V, Giraud, Le chris- 
tiamsme de Chateaubriand (2 vols., Paris, 1925-1928) and P. Moreau, La conversion 
de Chateaubriand (Paris, 1933). 


fashion for the man of the world. ... In the seventeenth century 
men believed in Christianity, in the eighteenth they renounced and 
extirpated it, and now in the nineteenth” they looked at it “pathet- 
ically, gazing at it from the outside, as one looks at an object in 
a museum, and saying ‘How poetic,’ £ How touching.’ Fragments 
from the ruins of monasteries were set up in gardens; a gold cross 
was once more thought a most becoming ornament for a fashion- 
able lady; the audiences at sacred concerts melted into tears . . . 
To make the antiquated principle of authority look young and at- 
tractive they painted it with the rouge of sentimental enthusiasm.” 10 

Chateaubriand, in demonstrating the truth of Christianity by the 
poetry of its liturgy and the melancholy eloquence of its church 
bells, is one of the founders of the aesthetic neo-medieval Catholicism 
that passed for Christianity with many of the devout during the 
whole nineteenth century. After the restoration of the Bourbons, 
Chateaubriand supported their government, though he made it 
clear in a widely read pamphlet, De la monarchic selon la charte 
(1816), that he believed in constitutional monarchy. At the end of 
the reign of Louis XVIII (1824) he went over to the opposition 
though he always remained an ardent ultramontane. The other 
French romantic writers of the Restoration resembled Chateaubriand 
in their political views. Lamartine began his literary career as an 
ardent Catholic and royalist. The early poems of Victor Hugo also 
contain the whole system of orthodox political and religious prin- 
ciples which were valid under the Restoration. But by 1830 both 
had veered away from the throne and the altar. 11 

The rallying of literary romanticism to reaction was even more 
striking in Germany than in France. The precursors of German 
romanticism had been prophets of an ideal of boundless liberty. 
No rules should bind the genius because the divine spirit spoke 
in him. But before the end of the Napoleonic wars nearly all the 
chief poets, critics, and novelists of the movement had passed into 

10 G. Brandes, Main Currents in Nineteenth Century Literature (New York, 1901), 
III, 79, 85. Brandes fails to see that this generation was confronted with the problem, 
of a religious vacuum, and that back of the tinsel there was a deep desire for belief and 

11 Cf. L. Cordelier, V evolution religicuse de Lamartine (Paris, iSqs); P. Dubois, 
Hugo, scs tdecs rehgieu ?es 1802-1825 (Pans, 1913) > H. Girard, “La pensee religieuse 
dcs -'•> v, ir-n 4 '*r , nrs tf Revue de Vhistoire des religions, 1924, and A. Viatte, Le cathohcisme 
cheat - ; o/i v.s (Pans, 1922) 


fashion for the man of the world. ... In the seventeenth century 
men believed in Christianity, in the eighteenth they renounced and 
extirpated it, and now m the nineteenth” they looked ac it “pathet- 
ically, gazing at it from the outside, as one looks at an object m 
a museum, and saying ‘How poetic,’ £ How touching/ Fragments 
from the ruins of monasteries were set up in gardens; a gold cross 
was once more thought a most becoming ornament for a fashion- 
able lady; the audiences at sacred concerts melted into tears . . . 
To make the antiquated principle of authority look young and at- 
tractive they painted it with the rouge of sentimental enthusiasm.” 10 

Chateaubriand, in demonstrating the truth of Christianity by the 
poetry of its liturgy and the melancholy eloquence of its church 
bells, is one of the founders of the esthetic neo-medieval Catholicism 
that passed for Christianity wnh many of the devout during the 
whole nineteenth century. After the restoration of the Bourbons, 
Chateaubriand supported their government, though he made it 
clear in a widely read pamphlet, De la monarchic selon la charte 
(1816), that he believed in constitutional monarchy. At the end of 
the reign of Louis XVIII (1824) he went over to the opposition 
though he always remained an ardent ultramontane. The other 
French romantic writers of the Restoration resembled Chateaubriand 
in their political views. Lamartine began his literary career as an 
ardent Catholic and royalist. The early poems of Victor Hugo also 
contain the whole system of orthodox political and religious prin- 
ciples which were valid under the Restoration. But by 1830 both 
had veered away from the throne and the altar/ 1 

The rallying of literary romanticism to reaction was even more 
striking in Germany than 111 France. The precursors of German 
romanticism had been prophets of an ideal of boundless liberty. 
No rules should bind the genius because the divine spirit spoke 
in him. But before the end of the Napoleonic wars nearly all the 
chief poets, critics, and novelists of the movement had passed into 

MG Brandes, Main Currents *n Nineteenth Cent >ry Literature (New York, 1901), 
III, 79, 85. Brandes fails to see that tins genemtion was confronted with the problem 
of a religious vacuum, and that back of the tinsel Lhere was a deep desiie for behef and 
assurance. . 

11 Cf. L. Cordelier, VcvoluHo.i rchgieusc de Lamartine (.Pans, iSqs); P. Dubois, 
Hugo, ses idees rcligieuscs 1S0J-1825 (Pans 1913) , If Girard, “La pen see rehgieuse 
de/romantiques,” Revue de Vliwtoire des religions, 1924, and A Viatte, Lc ca*nohcisme 
ches les romantiqnes (Pans, 192.1) 


5 8 

a mood of the blackest reaction. The reversal of their point of view 
is shown above all in the conversions to Catholicism. The one con- 
sistent element among these German romanticists lay in their per- 
sistent attempts to fly from reality and to construct an illusionist 
view of life. Their revolt, it would seem, was not against the wrongs 
of life, but against its prose. They began, for example, by evoking 
the Middle Ages in the name of fantasy, and they ended by dress- 
ing up society to look medieval in order to get poetic reality. Their 
intangible imagery and their strange vocabulary give one the im- 
pression that most of their passionate blows were dealt in the air. 12 

Novaks, the founder of German political romanticism, had begun 
as a revolutionary who announced that he was “prepared for any 
sort of enlightenment. 55 He had expressed the hope that he might 
live to see a “new massacre of St. Bartholomew, a wholesale de- 
struction of despotism and prisons.” Yet this same poet ended by 
looking on the King of Prussia as a gift of providence, and, though 
a Protestant and a former pupil of a Moravian school, he came 
to defend the temporal power of the pope. In his Christenheit oder 
Europa (1799) he attacked the Enlightenment for its mechanistic 
and utilitarian view of the state and its ideals of natural rights, 
social equality, and political democracy. In the course of the argu- 
ment, he extolled the spirit of Jesuitism and declared it a misfortune 
that the papacy no longer had the power to stop such dangerous 
theories as those of Copernicus. The ideal of a paternalistic and 
authoritarian regime, the glorification of mediaeval culture, the em- 
phasis on the religious element in civilization and the regeneration 
of society through Catholicism, and finally the necessity of submerg- 
ing the individual in the group— all these are first brought together 
in German thought in the fragmentary writings of Novalis. Though 
primarily an artist, he gave to the more purely aesthetic and religious 
doctrines of the early German romanticists a political coloring. 13 

Friedrich Schlegel, the outstanding thinker of the group, made 
his debut as an eighteenth-century rationalist, cosmopolitan, and 
classicist. Under the influence of Fichte and Schleiermacher, and 

13 On the psychological cast of German romanticism see the brilliant essay of Carl 
Schmitt, Politische Romantik (2nd edition, Munich, 1925). 

13 R. Samuel, Die poetische Stoats- und Geschichtsauffassung Friedrich von Harder^ 
bergs (Frankfort, 1925) and E Spenle, Novaks (Pans, 1933). 


under the impressions of the French Revolution, he took a deep bath 
of romanticism wherein he rid himself of all taint of Jacobinism. 
He was converted to Catholicism, and spent his last years at Vienna 
in the circle of Mettcrmch. Speculative reason, which was for the 
eighteenth-century rationalist an infallible guide, became in his 
eyes the chief source of falsehood and delusion. In his writings, es- 
pecially in his Philosophic der Geschichte (1829), he frankly takes 
as his central concept irrationalism, or, to use a favorite expression 
of the period, the “Organic”; life is accepted in all its incompre- 
hensibility in preference to what is mechanical or reducible to rational 
formulas. This type of romanticism was bound to support “tradition 
as the expression of a slow evolution ripened in the womb of time, 
a work not of arbitrarily deciding reason, but of mysteriously 
working life.” Schlegel, like most of the German romanticists of this 
generation, idealized the old Holy Roman Empire and dreamed 
of a new society which should be a confederation under the pope. 
He saw in the German Middle Ages an epoch in which a simple 
faith was supreme, in w r hich poetry found a glorious expression in 
the songs of the Minnesingers and in which the arts reached per- 
fection in the work of Diirer and Peter Vischer. 14 Kings in this 
age may have been cruel, but they added to the pageantry of 
life; priests may have been superstitious, but they built cathedrals. 
It was a fancy-dress world whose decor seems made of painted 
plaster of Paris like much of the imitation wood and stone sculpture 
in the houses of the Gothic revival. Clemens Brentano, Tieck, and 
Kleist showed much the same tendencies. For these German ro- 
manticists there was no middle ground between wild revolt and 
unqualified submission. 

In the world of practical affairs the most significant of the Ger- 
man romanticists converted to reaction was Gorres, the founder of 
modern German journalism. Like the others he was an early ad- 
mirer of the French Revolution, preaching a violent anticlerical 

14 The romantic movement in the early nineteenth century gave to the Middle Ages 
the same sentimental glorification that, m the eighteenth century, it ga\e to classical 
antiquity. Many of the attitudes of the literary romanticists weie reflected m the Gothic 
revival m architecture, in the German Nazarene school of paintmg, and latei in English 
Pie-Raphaehtism Theie is much of interest on Sch^egei’s eajuei career and views m 
Richard Volpers, Friedrich Schlegel als pohtschcr Dcnkcr mid d cut seller Patriot (Berlin 
3 ( 917 ); see also F. Inile, Friedrich von SchieqcU Entwicklung (Padeiborn, 1927 ), Benno 
''on Wiese, Fi'cdiicb Schlcqcl (Bcrl.n, 1927 ) and R Guignard, Bicniano (Pans, 1933)- 



doctrine, and for a time he worked for the establishment of a free 
Rhenish republic after the French model. In 1814 he founded the 
Rheinische Mer\ur , to defend liberal and nationalist ideas, a journal 
that Napoleon called “the fifth power of Europe.” The Prussian 
government suppressed the paper in 1816. Gorres then wandered 
about Germany for several years and before long became a Catholic. 
In 1827 he joined the faculty of the University of Munich and, as 
an advocate of ultramontanism, was soon the center of the circle 
of Catholic intellectuals and politicians who laid the foundation of 
a Catholic political party in Germany. The same man who in early 
manhood had held that the past was detestable, that revolutionary 
France was the promised land, and that the rest of the world was 
the domain of slavery, now expounded views which brought him 
the praise of Joseph de Maistre, greatest of all theorists of the re- 
action in France. But Gorres was consistent in at least one train 
of thought — he was an ardent exponent of nationalism, like many 
other German thinkers of his generation. He contrasted French 
immorality with the pure morality of the German, French free- 
thought with the devout faith of old German Catholicism, and the 
frivolous and artificial art of France with the simple and earnest 
folk-art of Germany. 15 

The most extreme and fantastic of the German romantics was the 
dramatist, Zacharias Werner. Like countless others he had been, in 
his youth, a devoted disciple of Rousseau. His respect for the great 
French master went so far that for a time he dated the year not 
from the first of January, but from the second of July, the date of 
Rousseau’s death. By 1811 he had been converted to Catholicism and 
shortly afterward was ordained a priest. During the Congress of 
Vienna his fanatical sermons drew great audiences, which often 
included members of the congress. The pope and the executioner, 
he declared, were the two powers necessary to quell the rebellious 
spirit of unbelief and disobedience called forth by the French Revo- 
lution. Anyone who reads his extreme and almost hysterical appeals 
will feel some sympathy for the strictures of the great Danish critic, 
Georg Brandes, who remarks: “One feels as if Romanticism ended 

15 See M. Berger, Gorres als politischer Publicist (Bonn, 1921). There is an excellent 
treatment of him in Georges Goyau, L’Allcmagne rehgieuse, le Catholicisme (Paris, 1910), 
I. Book II, chap. iii. 


in a sort o£ witches’ Sabbath, in which the philosophers play the 
part o£ old crones, amidst the thunders of the obscurantists, the in- 
sane yells of the mystics, and the shouts of the politicians for tem- 
poral and ecclesiastical despotism A 10 

Still it would be a mistake to overlook the profound and far- 
reaching influence of German romanticism. It gave German thought 
a dominant position during the early nineteenth century not so un- 
like that held by Italian thought in the sixteenth century and by 
French classicism in the seventeenth and eighteenth The thousands 
of French emigres who lived in Germany m the time of the revo- 
lution and during the Napoleonic period took back the ideas of 
romanticism when thev returned to their homes in 1814. Mme. de 
StaeFs famous essay De V Allemagne exerted an almost incredible 
influence and did more than perhaps any other book to spread the 
new gospel throughout Europe. 17 In the great German universities 
foreign students were steeped in the romantic outlook. Coleridge 
and Carlyle among English writers, Emerson among Americans, 
and a large group of scholars and writers in Russia, the Balkans, 
and among the Slavic peoples of middle Europe carried far and 
wide the ideals and literary forms of the German masters. It would 
be hardly too much to say that in the first four decades of the cen- 
tury European thought was becoming German thought. 

The English writers of the romantic school never succumbed to 
the creed of political reaction as completely as did the French and 
Germans. Walter Scott, who was a Tory from the beginning, 
was beyond the need of conversion. He always condemned utili- 
tarianism because it did violence to the old ties of religion, patriotism, 
and family loyalty, all of which he delighted in investing with the 
glamour of sentiment. Fie greatly admired Burke to whom he re- 
fers as a writer of “almost prophetic power/’ During the early 
nineteenth century, Scott’s novels were probably the most widely 
read books in Europe; Nicholas I of Russia was fond of reading 
them to his Prussian wife. Their tremendous influence defies ac- 
curate estimate, but they obviously increased the taste for a romantic 

10 Brancles, op cit , II, 16 

17 Cf F. Baldensperger, Le mouvemem des ideas dans V emigration frangaisc (2 vols.. 
Pans. 1024). 



view of past times, and furnished an imaginative medieval setting 
for the attempt of the reactionaries to resurrect the past. 

The reaction was more striking among the poets. In his youth 
Wordsworth hailed the coming of the French Revolution. To fol- 
low its changes more closely he went to France. As the years passed, 
however, he turned against the movement and deplored the influ- 
ence it might have on the old institutions of England, especially on 
the Anglican Church. He wrote poems against Catholic Emancipa- 
tion, the Reform Bill, and popular education. This “lost leader” of 
Browning’s verses was one of those who, as Hazlitt said of Southey, 
“missed the road to Utopia and landed in Old Samm ” 18 Southey, 
a second member of the Lake school, as a young man joined Coleridge 
in planning a communal settlement on the Susquehanna. When 
the French Revolution began he, too, welcomed it with enthusiasm; 
then, like many others of his generation, he discovered that revo- 
lutionary doctrines had not made men good, and quite charac- 
teristically he jumped to the conclusion that they had made men 
bad. On social questions he was more liberal, demanding juster 
rewards for the downtrodden working classes. But his orthodox 
religious and political views won him the position of poet laureate 
in 1813. The appointment drew the fire of the radicals — Byron 
makes his name rhyme with “mouthy”— and he was blamed for 
the apostasy of the Lake poets from the revolutionary faith. 

The greatest thinker among the poets of the Lake school was 
Coleridge. 19 He began his career as a writer by proclaiming most 
of the usual doctrines of Jacobinism, the natural goodness of man, 
the corruption of all governments, and the consequent right of the 
individual to obey his inner voice against all external dictates. The 
violent changes of the period and his study of German romantic 
literature and philosophy gradually led him away from all such 
ideas. In later life he was recognized as the greatest conservative 
thinker of his generation in England, though, unlike some of the 
German writers, he never became an advocate of blind resistance to 
change. He opposed the Reform Bill though he supported Catholic 
Emancipation, free trade, and the early factory acts. His lament 

18 Cf. E. C. Batho, The Later Wordsworth (New York, 1933), for a different view. 

19 C £. R. J. White, ed., Political Thought of Coleridge (London, 1938). 


over a world given up to atheism and materialism, especially in 
his work, The Constitution of Church and State (1830), and his 
defense of the .Anglican Church as the promoter of civilization not 
only influenced Newman and the leaders of the Oxford movement, 
but contributed much to the growth of the new attitude later 
characterized as the Victorian. 20 

It would be possible to trace some of the same currents in the 
thought of the romantic writers of other countries, notably of Man- 
zom in Italy, 21 though, as has been observed earlier, romanticism, 
m itself did not necessarily involve any political or social program. 
The wide variety in romantic thought becomes clear, not only 111 
tracing the change of outlook among writers from the eighteenth 
century into the early nineteenth, but also in observing the trans- 
formation in political outlook among the younger generation of 
romanticists. In the course of the 1820’s it became increasingly evi- 
dent that romanticism was beginning to rally to liberalism. The 
dramatic defection of Chateaubriand (1824) from the cause of the 
Bourbons and the growth of a more liberal point of view in the 
writings of Stendhal, Hugo, and Lamartine, the rise of the Young 
Germany movement under the leadership of men like Heine, Borne, 
and Gutzkow, the growing interest in the poetry of Byron, the early 
writings of Mazzmi in Italy, the poetry of Pushkin in Russia, and 
of Mickiewicz in Poland, and the whole Philhellenic movement — all 
these developments point to a new outlook among the young genera- 
tion which came to maturity after 1820. 


Throughout the long eighteenth-century attack on the Ancien 
Regime, no serious attempt had been made to defend this order. 
Its supporters either considered it strong enough to stand without 
apology, or, being in control, resorted to the easiest weapons of de- 
fense — force and repression. Only with the outbreak of the French 
Revolution were there made any substantial efforts at justification. 
From this body of writing, which appeared between 1790 and 1820, 
most of the fundamental arguments of modern conservatism have 

®° The best general treatment is by Crane Br inton, The Political Ideas of the English 
Romanticists (Oxford, 1926). 

51 Cf. P. Fossi, La conversionc dt Manzoni (Bari, 1933)* 



been drawn. This traditionalist theorizing, as we find it in the early 
nineteenth century is, indeed, far more original than the liberal 
thought of the same period, which simply represents a further de- 
velopment of the ideas of the eighteenth century. 

The new philosophy of conservatism, while deriving the source 
of royal, aristocratic, and ecclesiastical power variously from God, 
from nature, and from history, was grounded in a denial of the 
doctrines that power was from the people and that reason alone 
could build a new society. All written constitutions aroused the 
scorn of these theorists, especially those which, like the American 
Constitution, embodied advanced democratic ideas. The tradi- 
tionalist systems also repudiated the idea that the free life of the 
individual is the end of society. There are no natural rights anterior 
and superior to the whole social organism. The individual exists 
solely through society, and society can be improved only by slow 
degrees and in line with tradition. To Blackstone and Burke tradi- 
tion was represented by the British Constitution; to Gentz and to 
Savigny, by Germanic institutions; to Haller, at least in part, by 
the institutions of Switzerland; and finally to Joseph de Maistre and 
Bonald, by the absolute French monarchy and, beyond that, by 
the Catholic Church. The writers of the school all borrowed argu- 
ments back and forth, and exerted much influence on one another. 

The first thoroughgoing criticism of the principles of the revolu- 
tion was Edmund Burke’s Reflections on the Revolution in France 
(1790). This brilliant essay, which has remained ever since one of 
the most widely read handbooks of conservatism, was at the same 
time an ardent defense of the British Constitution, and a telling 
attack on the philosophy of the Enlightenment. Burke’s primary 
appeal was to history and experience as the only satisfactory guides 
in statecraft. Human society, an organism of slow growth and of 
infinitely complex structure, may show many faults, but the be- 
havior of the French revolutionaries proved that it is better to 
endure these minor ills than to fly to others that we know not of. 
So Burke defended the British Constitution, rotten boroughs and 
all, against those who would change it abruptly. ct Our Constitu- 
tion,” he had written in 1770, “stands on a nice equipoise, with steep 
precipices and deep waters upon all sides. In removing it from a 


dangerous leaning toward one side there may be risk of oversetting 
it on the other.” 22 Blackstonc in. his Commentaries on the haws of 
England (1765-1 769) had elaborated much the same point of view. 
Indeed, in his dcJense of British institutions Burke was only giv- 
ing philosophic expression to the ^ icw of the governing classes in 
England, that the glorious Revolution of 1688 had given the British 
Constitution its ultimate form. 

Burke criticized both the method of thought and the basic ideas 
of the French phdosophes . These French spinners of logic, whose 
“rage and frenzy will pull down more in half an hour than 
prudence, deliberation and foresight can build in a hundred years/’ 
had failed to see that society is a vast organism in which the present 
moment is as nothing and in which the wisdom of any man or 
group of men or of any generation is in itself of little significance. 
He showed the fallacies of the whole social contract theory; “Society 
is indeed a contract . . . but the state ought not to be considered 
as nothing better than a partnership agreement in a trade of pepper 
and coffee, to be taken up for a temporary interest and to be dis- 
solved by the fancy of the parties. ... It is a partnership in all 
science, in all art, in every virtue and in all perfection. As the ends 
of such a partnership cannot be obtained in many generations, it 
becomes a partnership not only between those who are living, but 
between those who are living, those who are dead and those who 
are to be born.” 23 Revolutions are justified only when, like the 
American Revolution, they are efforts to fulfill great historic tradi- 
tions. The French Revolution was not legitimate because it broke 
with tradition and was carried through by only a small fraction of 
the nation and in violation of the national constitution. And, finally, 
the French revolutionaries stood condemned because they failed to 
recognize the importance of a religious basis for society. 

Burke continued to write attacks on the revolution until his death 
in 1797. His arguments were taken up by hard-pressed monarchs, 
emigres , churchmen, and counter-revolutionaries of all sorts. Be- 
fore he died he had received the praises of George III, a gold medal 
from Stanislas of Poland, and congratulations from Catherine of 

22 Burke, Works (Oxford, 1906), XI, 74 Cf D. A. Lockmilicr. Blackstone (Chapel 
Hill, 1938)- 23 Burke, op at, IV, 106. 



Russia. The Reflections were translated at once into French. De 
Maistre wrote in 1793, ‘T cannot tell you how Burke has strengthened 
my anti-democratic and anti-Gallican views.” 24 Gentz made a trans- 
lation into German, and in one version or another the book spread 
its influence across the Continent in the early decades of the nine- 
teenth century. But the use made of his writings by the reactionaries 
of succeeding generations must not obscure the fact that Burke was 
one of the great political thinkers of modern times. Not only did 
he expose with unanswerable logic the fallacies and superficialities 
of much eighteenth-century rationalizing about the state, but he 
demonstrated as never before the essential complexity of political 
problems— above all that of liberty— and the unescapable fact that 
the present and the future of society cannot be separated from its 
past. With Burke, said Lord Acton, the authority of history was so 
strong that it “alone devoured all the rest of his principles, and made 
the first of Liberals the first of Conservatives.” 25 The evolutionary 
approach to political and social problems is now so generally accepted 
that it is hard to think in other terms. In a very real sense this 
orientation is a contribution of Edmund Burke. 26 

Burke’s principal German admirer, Friedrich von Gentz, as secre- 
tary of the Congress of Vienna and as the aide of Metternich, be- 
came the chief apologist of reaction at the Hapsburg court. Gentz 
began his career as a liberal publicist. “If this Revolution were to 
fail,” he wrote soon after the beginning of the movement, “I should 
deem it one of the greatest misfortunes which had befallen man- 
kind. It is the first practical triumph of philosophy. ... It is a 
hope and comfort for our race, which is groaning under so many 
evils.” 27 This conviction faded, and Gentz, partly for reasons of 
personal advancement, moved slowly toward conservatism. In 1801 
he published his Uber den Unsprung und Character des Krieges 

24 R. Soltau, French Political Thought in the Nineteenth Century (London, 1931), 19 

25 Quoted from the Acton manuscripts by Robert H, Murray, Edmund Burke , a 
Biography (London, 1931), 357 note. 

28 See especially Alfred Cobban, Edmund Burke and the Revolt against the Eighteenth 
Century (London, 1929 ), and the monograph of Mario Einaudi, Edmondo Burke e 
Vmdinszo storico nelle science politiche (Turin, 1930). There is much of interest regard- 
ing Burke’s influence on Gentz and Muller in Frieda Braune, Edmund Burke in Deutsch- 
land (Heidelberg, 1917). 

27 Brandes, op. at., II, 317. 


gegen die franzosichc Revolution , the most important of his long 
series of writings attacking the principles of the revolution. Some 
years later he summed up his creed in words that remind one of his 
master, Mettcrnich, “In an age of decay, the sole function of a states- 
man is to prop up mouldering institutions.'’ Gentz insisted that 
there was no longer order m society because there was “too much 
movement, too many irresponsible wills in the world.” 23 Writing 
m 1819 he declared that, “as a preventive measare against the abuses 
of the press, absolutely nothing should be printed for years. . . . 
With this maxim as a rule, we should in a short time get back to 
God and the Truth.” 29 His writings after 1817 furnish a running 
commentary on the policies of Mettermch and an attempted jiTstifi- 
cation oFtBem. Curiously ’enough, both Mettcrnich and Gentz had 
an'mterest m the new liberal economic doctrines. It was at Gentz’s 
suggestion that Garve in 1794 made the first adequate German 
translation of Smith’s W ealth of Nations . 

Closely allied with Gentz was his friend, Adam Muller, also a 
Prussian who finally found favor at the Austrian court, where he 
became a convert to Catholicism and a well-known pamphleteer. 
Drawing on the arguments of Burke and Bonald he attacked the 
principles of individualism and progress in the name of authority, 
tradition, and the organic community. The highest realization of 
the individual is possible only in the Christian state under strong 
rulership — a state which stands for the totality of human affairs. His 
economic views were more original and interesting, for they were 
directed against the doctrines of Adam Smith who, so Muller argued, 
had failed to incorporate in his theory the spiritual values of life and 
society. Muller was less subtle than Gentz, and his writings abound 
in exaggeration. He asserted, for instance, that the existence of the 
Holy Trinity proved conclusively that any national economic system 
based on a single principle must be wrong. “In fanaticism,” says 
Treitschke, “Muller excelled all the rest” 30 He was one of the most 
important spiritual ancestors of National Socialism in Germany. 

One of the most esteemed reactionary theorists in the German 

26 E Denis, UAllemagne 1810-1852 (Pans, n d ), no. 

20 Legqe, op. cit ,39 Cf A Robinet de Clery, Les idees bohnque r de Gentz (Lausanne, 
1917), and P. R. Sweet, Gentz (Madison, 1941) 

30 Cf. L. Sauzm, Adam Muller (Paris, 1937) > and G. A. Briefs, “Econ. Phil, of 
Romanticism” in T. of His. of Ideas , 1941. 



world was the Swiss professor Karl Ludwig von Haller. As an 
official of the Canton of Bern, he had seen the power of the Swiss 
patricians collapse amid the storms of the revolution, and this had 
aroused in him a deep hatred of Rousseauism. Believing that “the 
legitimate rulers having been restored, we must now rest on thought 
that is legitimate,” he published in 1816 the first of six volumes of an 
extended work on political theory, Restauration der Staatswissen - 
schaften . Herein, after attacking the theory of the social contract, 
and the dogmas of natural rights and the sovereignty of the people, 
he set out “to reestablish monarchy upon its true foundations, to 
overthrow the presumptuous revolutionary science of the godless 
eighteenth century, and to make the Catholic Church shine with 
renewed effulgence.” 31 All that he really advanced in place of the 
hated political dogmas of the Enlightenment was a restatement of 
the principles of patrimonial law upon which the authority of the 
Bernese aristocracy had been based. Just as in former days the rulers 
of Bern had treated the subject lands of Aargau and Vaud simply 
as the private property of the little republic, so Haller founded his 
theory of the state solely upon the right of the stronger. The state 
is the property of the prince who may do with it what he will, since 
he is dealing only with what is rightfully his. If the people were to 
disappear, the state would still exist in the person of the prince, who 
could readily find new subjects. A further argument for absolutism 
could be found in the dependence of the weak on the strong, a re- 
lationship which is not artificial, but rests in nature itself. The 
Catholic Church, to which Haller was a convert, came in for ex- 
tended praise as one of the bulwarks of the social order. The attempt 
to cover the whole ground of political thought gave the work a 
comprehensive thoroughness which made it a great encyclopaedia 
of conservatism, particularly in Prussia, where Haller was highly 
esteemed by the crown prince, later Frederick William IV. Hegel, 
however, characterized the work as one of “incredible crudity.” 30 * 

Of much greater depth were the writings of Savigny, for years 
a professor in the University of Berlin and one of the outstanding 
scholar-jurists of modern times. The genesis of Savigny’s theories, 
especially as set forth in his principal work, Geschichte des romischen 

01 Treitschke, op at., II, 360-361. 

as cf. W. H. Sonntagf, Die Staatsauffassung Hallers (Jena, 1929). 


Rechts tin Mittelalter (1815-1831), was to be found in Herder’s ideas 
of social evolution and m his own nationalistic hatred for the foreim 


laws introduced by the French east of the Rhine. Savigny agreed 
with many of the other conservative theorists in rejecting the in- 
dividualism and the a -priori reasoning that lay back of the French 
Revolution. Law and institutions, he held, are not made solely by 
legislation. They came into existence in the remote past and con- 
tinue, like languages, to grow with the nations, with their beliefs, 
their customs, and their whole life. They are unconscious products 
of the spirit of the people (Herder’s Vol\sgeist ), and must grow 
slowly and organically. These views squared with the widely pre- 
vailing ideas of the German romanticists, who believed that the 
slow and unconscious growth of society produces results far superior 
to those derived from a mechanical ordering. They were at one in 
denying that good institutions can spring suddenly from the brain 
of a legislator or from the debates of an assembly. 33 The movement 
of German scholarship — at this time the most advanced in Europe — 
seemed to confirm Savigny’s assumptions. Niebuhr applied the same 
conceptions to the study of Roman history, Bopp to comparative 
philology, and the Grimms to the study of literature and folk-lore. 
Savigny’s insistence on the superiority of the state as against its in- 
dividual members was also in complete harmony with the political 
views of the classical German philosophers. 34 

Cuoco, a follower of Vico and the most profound Italian thinker 
of his time, was propounding some of the same traditionalist views 
in Italy. Using Vico’s political philosophy as the basis of his historical 
writing, he published in 1801 his Saggio storico sidla rivoluzione 
napoletana del 1799, an elaborate analysis of the failure of the French 
revolutionary movement in Italy. This failure, he believed, lay in the 
unhistorical attempt to apply to Italian affairs the abstract rationalist 
theories of the eighteenth century. The revolutionary flurries in the 
Italian states did not arise from the needs or impulses of the people 
but were promoted, with French help, by a small group of mtel- 

33 Cf S. Schultzenstein, Savigny (Berlin, 1930) and F. Zuflgmeyer, Die Rechtslehre 
Savgnys (Leipzig, 1929). 

31 The first woik of Friedrich Stahl, Die Philosophic des Rcchis natch gcschichtlicher 
Ansi chi (iS ^7), leflects something 01 the same outlook as the writings of Savigny. 
Stahl’s influence as a conservative religious and political theorist, however, belongs to the 
reign of Frederick William IV- 



lectuals who had no understanding of actual conditions. Like Burke 
and Savigny, Cuoco was as much a nationalist as he was an opponent 
of doctrinaire rationalism, and his hatred of the abstract political 
thought of the French seems to have grown deeper with the humilia- 
tions which year after year of foreign rule imposed upon the Italian 
people. But he was never as reactionary in his theories as the historical 
thinkers of the period in England and Germany. In fact, his attacks 
on French liberal thought were made in the name of a liberalism in 
which constitutional formulas were to be reinforced by historical 
and traditional institutions. His belief that an improvement of the 
wretched conditions in the peninsula could be effected only by slow 
degrees led him to an interest in education and in the formation of 
an enlightened public opinion which he regarded as the only certain 
means of regenerating the Italian people. The whole Risorgimento — 
through Manzoni, Romagnosi, Mazzini, and Gioberti — was to feel 
his influence. 35 

The most thoroughgoing philosophers of reaction were the French, 
for in France the revolution had wrought most havoc in the old 
order of life. Amidst a great flood of treatises and pamphlets, defend- 
ing either the Ancien Regime or the restored government of the 
Bourbons, there was general agreement on the importance of a 
monarchical and aristocratic structure for the state, though there 
was a sharp difference of opinion about ecclesiastical policy. Some 
writers were Gallican, others were ultramontane. The principal Gal- 
ilean theorists, Frayssinous and Mondosier, defended the restored 
monarchy against the encroachments of the Jesuits, while de Maistre, 
Bonald, and Lamennais were ardent ultramontanes. 

Frayssinous, a teacher in the Seminary of Saint-Sulpice in Paris 
and later minister of ecclesiastical affairs, revived the historic Gal- 
licanism of Bossuet. His Vrais principes de Veglise gallicane (1818) 
was an attack on the deism, rationalism, and individualism of the 
eighteenth century, combined with a glorification of the Bourbons 
and the church as they existed in the last centuries of the old 
monarchy. The work embodied the views of Louis XVIII and the 
moderate royalists, and of the majority of the French bishops. In 
1826 there appeared a much livelier treatise presenting the same 

85 Cf. F. Battaglia, & opera di Cuoco e la formazione dello spirito nazionale in Italia 
(Florence, 1925) , and G. V. Gentile, Cuoco (Venice, 1927). 


point o£ view, Memoire a cons niter sur un systeme ; ehgieux et 
■ politique , the work of the Comte de Montlosier. While showing no 
sympathy for the ideas of eighteenth-century liberalism, and breath- 
ing a spirit of devotion to the restored monarchy and to the Catholic 
Church, the author launched a bitter attack on the ultramontane 
policies of Charles X. The Jesuits, he maintained, by their meddling 
in politics were discrediting all religion; if they were allowed to 
continue, the hatred they were arousing would destroy the monarchy 
and rum the church. For the reactionaries this type o£ Galilean 
thought was too full of reservations, and for the liberals it represented 
an impossible compromise. So this attempt to build a theory of 
church and state by an appeal to the Galilean traditions of the old 
monarchy proved to be as fruitless as the efforts of Louis XVIII to 
steer a middle course between revolution and reaction. 30 

The mam current of reactionary thought in France was even more 
ultramontane than royalist. Its most brilliant representative, Joseph 
de Maistre, had been influenced in his youth by Illuminism and by 
the occult side of the Enlightenment. The coming of the French 
armies into Savoy and his life as an emigre changed his Views, and 
in his Considerations sur la Trance (1796) he launched his first at- 
tack on the revolution. In 1802 he was sent by the King of Sardinia 
to the Prussian court, where he spent thirteen lonely years of exile in 
the writing of a number of works, the two greatest of which were 
Du page and Soirees de St. Petersbourg. For him, as for 'Hobbes, 
the necessity of order became the first principle of politics. He could 
not conceive of order without an absolute authority. According to 
his argument — which depends not merely on rhetoric, but usually 
carries matters back to fundamental differences which hardly admit 
of purely reasonable proof — there is no public authority without 
religion, no religion for Europe without Christianity, no Christianity 
without Catholicism, no Catholicism without the pope, and no pope 
without absolute sovereignty. He was, like some of the German 
theorists, as sharp a critic of the Protestant Reformation as of the 
French Revolution. Especially did he loathe the revolution. It had 
overthrown every institution he cherished. It had tyrannized over 
his church, had mocked his religion, and had executed the king. 

30 Cf J. Brugeiette, Montlosier ct son temps (Aurillac, 1931) and A. Gamier, Frays - 
sinous (Paris, 1925). 



And underlying the revolution was “the shameful thought of the 
eighteenth century/’ which had begun by denying religion, and 
which praised even good men only for what was bad in them. Like 
Voltaire, whom he both detested and resembled, de Maistre could 
see with unerring sharpness the weakness in an opponent’s thought, 
and he showed the same genius for using and misusing history for 
his own ends. But he exposed the superficialities and the unwar- 
ranted assumptions of eighteenth-century rationalism, and, like 
Burke, helped to direct political and social thought toward impor- 
tant and neglected realities. His emphasis on the continuity of his- 
torical evolution, and on the interdependence of the various ele- 
ments in society ultimately forced both the liberal and the radical 
thinkers to reexamine their whole ideology. 37 

Closely resembling Joseph de Maistre in his type of polemic was 
the Vicomte de Bonald. He, too, was an emigre attacking the prin- 
ciples of the revolution. For thirty-five years he continued to build 
on the ruins made by this revolution a complete structure of tradi- 
tionalism. His principal work, Theorie dn pouvoir politiqtie et 
rehgieux (1796), is a voluminous study in three volumes every state- 
ment of which is buttressed with elaborate logic. The argument pro- 
ceeds with a tedious monotony, for Bonald is usually as dull as de 
Maistre is witty. His whole philosophy was based on a denial of 
two of the fundamental ideas of the eighteenth century — that human 
nature is good and that society is the work of man. Of the first he 
wrote, “We are bad by nature, we are made good by society! Those 
who begin by supposing that we are born good are like architects, 
who, about to build an edifice, suppose that the stones appear from 
the quarry ready cut.” 38 To disprove the idea that society is a human 
construction he started with a new first principle: man must think 
before he speaks, so thought must be of divine origin, thus 
man and his society are the creations of God. In his main conclusions, 
Bonald agreed with de Maistre that all power is derived from God 
and that society is His work, not the invention of man. Least of all 
is it based on the absurd social contract of Rousseau. God has Con- 
s'* The literature on de Maistre is enormous. See Peter R. Roliden, Joseph de Maistre 
als pohtischer Theoretiker (Munich, 1929), and Rene Johannet, “Aspects lecents de 
J. de Maistre/’ Revue de Pans , October 1, 1930. 

88 Bonald, Thione du pouvoir politique et rehgieux (Constance, 1796), Part I, Book I. 
Of. H. Moulinie, Bonald (Pans, 1915). 


-ctltuted kings to go\crn men and the church to lead them out of 
their inherent smiulncss. All attempts to interfere with this work 
are attempts to mteiferc with the purposes of God. Under king and 
bishop society should be organized as a hierarchy in which every 
individual from the nobility to the guilds should find his proper 
place. “Christen monarchies are the final creation in the develop- 
ment of political society and of religious society. The proof of this 
lies in the tact that when monarchy and Christianity are both 
abolished society returns to sa\ jgerv. v:jfl 

To men like Bonald and de Maistre the revolution meant only 
the guillotine, the nonsense of the worship of the Supreme Being, 
civil and foreign war, the misery of a ruined currency, and finally 
a crushing military defeat. They carried this fear of revolutionary 
principles to its very limit, and, not content with denying what Vol- 
taire and Rousseau had affirmed, they went to the extreme of reas- 
serting all that these two prophets had denied. Reaction and repres- 
sion were for them the first needs of society. “All greatness, all power, 
all order,” wrote de Maistre, “depend upon the executioner. He is 
the tie that binds society together. Take away this incomprehensible 
force and at that very moment order is suspended by chaos, thrones 
fall, and states disappear .” 40 Their defense of the papacy as the 
final authority in society was the crown of their system of political 
thought. They preached a strange Christianity in which religion is 
justified only ns a panacea for lawlessness, and a still stranger 
philosophy in which logical arguments are used throughout for the 
rejection of reason. Finally, the persistence of their appeal to ex- 
ternal authority leaves the impression that the institutions in which 
they placed their faith were bankrupt in everything except such 
authority 41 

De Maistre was read more widely than Bonald, although both 
writers had an influence not only in France, but also in Italy and 
Germany. Gentz, for example, regarded de Maistre even more 
highly than he regarded Burke. Both writers were especially esteemed 

30 Bonald, Oeuvres (Paris, 1864), I, 4S2. There is a keen analysis of Bonald*s thought 
in Harold J Laski, Authority m the Modern State (New Haven, 1919), chap ii 

10 Brandes, op cit.. Ill, 101. 

41 A third theorist of the group, Ballanche, shared many of the ideas of Bonald and 
de Maistre, though his interest was centeied in an r- lustoiy tlia* looked 

forward to the advent of democracy. He anticipated O.i:- n > ,l r 1 ’ ' by a half-century. 



at the papal court, and their writings did more than those of any 
others to defend the policy of ultramontanism by which the papacy, 
during the whole nineteenth century, sought the restoration of its 
power and prestige. In France, many of the ideas of de Maistre and 
Bonald were given a more popular presentation by Lamennais. He 
was a Breton of strong character and narrow mind. Time was to 
show that it was his nature to take a side obstinately and to defend 
it with eloquent love and passionate hate. In 1817 he published the 
first part of an extended Essai sur I’m difference en matter e de re- 
ligion. The book contained no new ideas, although Lacordaire said 
later that “its eloquence cast a spell, and invested a humble priest 
with all the authority once enjoyed by Bossuet.” Three more volumes 
of the Essai appeared before 1824, and in 1825 and 1826 he published 
a two-volume work, De la religion consideree dans ses rapports 
avec V or dr e politique et civil . After a trip to Rome, he became the 
center of a brilliant circle which included Montalembert, Lacordaire, 
and Maurice de Guerin. His Progres de la revolution et de la guerre 
contre Veglise was published in 1829. Each work was more ardently 
ultramontane than its predecessors until in this last treatise Lamen- 
nais denounced the church for attaching its cause to the dying cause 
of kings. The state, he maintained, was killing the church, while the 
hatred of the masses for the monarchy was spreading to include the 
clergy. The cause of the church must be made independent of that 
of the monarchy. This book became the charter of Liberal Catholi- 
cism in the nineteenth century. 42 


The history of German idealism from Kant to Hegel represents 
the culmination of this search for a principle of authority. There 
was a period in the lives of Kant, Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel when 
they shared the general attitudes of the Enlightenment on church 
and state. All had welcomed the revolution. The main current of 
their thought, however, gradually led away from the idea of natural 
rights and from individualism toward doctrines that emphasized 
deity and the submergence of the individual in the social organism. 

43 Cf. Laski, op. eit chap, iii, and the two excellent studies by C. Marechal, La jeunesse 
de Lamennais (Pans, 1912), and Lamennais , la dispute de V essai sur V indifference 
(Paris, 1925). 


All found the suite necessary for mama! human living, and Hegel 
finalh justified the extension oi its acidities under the guidance of 
a monarch. Put m their efforts to harmonize the conclusions of 
science and of tree-thouglu with t memorial religious beliefs they ar- 
rived at s) mhests which laced m l\s o directions. On the one hand they 
defended the Lbertv for winch the eighteenth cemurv and the revolu- 
tion stood, and on the other they came increasingly to praise the disci- 
pline and authority necessary for ns proper enjoyment. The univer- 
sality and comprehensiveness of their systems make it difficult to 
classify them either as conservative or as moderately liberal, although 
the direction of this current of thought from the eighteenth century 
into the nineteenth was toward authoritarianism. 

The beginning of this philosophical movement away from the 
rationalism and individualism of the Enlightenment dates chiefly 
from Kant’s Kntil \ der raven Vernunjt (1781). Disregarding the 
whole superstructure of eightecnth-ccntury thought, Kant began by 
examining its fundamental assumption, the universal validity of 
reason. I11 this examination he discovered that reason is only one of 
the elements necessary for grasping reality. Experiences of conscience, 
beauty, and religion are not, properly speaking, scientific or rational 
experiences at all. Indeed, they are quite unintelligible unless we 
assume that the world of experience differs from the world viewed 
only by science and reason. Kant definitely subordinated the abstract 
reasoning which the Enlightenment had deified to a moral and re- 
ligious faith. His method of criticizing the eighteenth century con- 
ception of reason as an inadequate means of understanding either 
man or the world was carried forward, in his Metaphysische An - 
fangsgriinde der Rechtslehre (1797), to an examination of the pre- 
vailing ideas of freedom and of the rights of the individual. He 
found a place for the freedom of the individual, but he maintained 
that this freedom does not lie in arbitrary action outside of all law, 
for such freedom is anarchy. Real freedom is to be achieved only 
by an authority which the individual must exercise over himself. 
The individual’s choice of action, however, is hedged about by the 
ideals and standards of the group, for the individual can realize him- 
self only in and through society. Kant attacked the type of external 
repression that had passed for law and order under the Ancien 


Regime because it assumed that men could be treated as cogs in the 
social machine, whereas, as ethical beings, they must always remain 
ends in themselves. On the other hand, he attacked the excessive 
individualism he discerned in Rousseau. Thus the chief problem of 
modern government will always lie in harmonizing general control 
with individual liberty. It is largely from Kant that the German idea 
of Freihe'it arose, a concept that in its development has been very 
different from the English ideal of Freedom and the French idea 
of Liberte . In its thoroughgoing analysis of the basic assumptions of 
philosophy as it had developed from Descartes to Locke, Kant’s 
system has been the very pivot of modern thought. 43 

Kant’s ideas were developed by his most brilliant follower, Fichte, 
whose dialectic subtlety was more refined, if possible, than the 
master’s. He developed the Kantian doctrines that reason is only of 
partial use as a guide to truth and that personal freedom is limited 
by the freedom of others. For the problem of freedom for one in- 
dividual cannot be solved except by a common solution for the 
group. 44 In Fichte’s view this group was the nation. His Grundlage 
des N aturrechts (1796) and Reden an die deutsche Nation (1808) 
represent an interesting combination of the nationalist ideas of 
Herder and the political philosophy of Kant, 45 developed in an effort 
to arouse and to unify the fragmented and humiliated Germany of 
his time. 

Schelling followed closely in the footsteps of Kant and Fichte, 
though he was less a metaphysician than a mystic. After welcoming 
the revolution he turned against it and denounced pure rationalism 
because it was undermining individual morality, society, and the 
state. He even suggested that the government should prohibit the 
teaching and the publication of the ideas of the Enlightenment. His 
interest was centered in the construction of a vast world-order in 
which the individual was submerged. In his later writings, Schelling 

43 A good study is that of Kurt Borries, Kant als Politiker (Leipzig, 1928). 

44 “The individual life has no real existence, since it has no value m itself, but must 
and should sink into nothing, while on the contrary the species {die 

since it alone ought to be looked upon as really living.” Fichte, 

VII, 37* CL X. Leon, Fichte et son temps (2 vols , Paris, 1922-7). 

46 The anti-individualism of Fichte’s thought led him to some socialist theorizing, 
particularly m his work, Der geschlossene Handclsstaat (1800). The socialist theories of 
Proudhon in France, and Lassalle and Rodbertus in Germany were all founded on parts 
of his argument. 


veered oil into an obscure mysticism, and the philosophic implica- 
tions of his world-vision were realized only by Hegel. The religious 
and the poetic quality of his writings endeared him to the German 
literary romanticists, to Coleridge and to Cousin. In Russia his 
philosophy began to ha\e a great vogue in the late iSao's, and it 
contributed substantially to the growth of a mystic Slavophilism. 40 

The greatest philosopher of the early nineteenth century, Hegel, 
began as a follower of Kant, Fichte, and the earlier Schelling, but 
the progress of his thought was toward greater authoritarianism. 
He turned against the French Revolution earlier than Kant. “In this 
bloody drama,” he wrote, “there melted the cloud of liberty, in em- 
bracing which the people have fallen into an abyss of misery.” 
But Hegel was at one with his predecessors in his striving to find a 
compromise between the abstract rationalism and individualism of 
the revolutionaries, who would make a clean sweep of the past, 
and the no less abstract historicism of the reactionaries, who would 
do the same for the present. The principal statement of his political 
philosophy is in his Naturrecht und Staatswissenschaft (1821). In 
this work, as in others of his writings, it is evident that his theory 
of the state is much more fundamental to his whole system than 
are such theories in the systems of Kant and Fichte. 

In contrast to the revolutionary doctrine that the state was an 
artificial creation made by a contract which brought together in- 
dividuals, each of whom continued to possess his natural rights — an 
idea to which Kant in part subscribed — Hegel held that the state was 
a natural organism representing a phase of an historical world 
process. He denied Rousseau’s belief that “man is born free and is 
everywhere in chains” and insisted that primitive man is always 
enslaved by passion, by superstition, and by armed force, and that 
only in the process of social evolution and only through the protec- 
tion of the community does he achieve freedom. Freedom to be of 
any value must be freedom from caprice. A strongly organized and 
well defended state is neither an obstacle nor an unwarranted inter- 
ference with the course of nature, but the means by which a con- 
scious society wins a genuine freedom. The individual has his ex- 
istence only as a member of the state, the power of which is derived 

40 Schellinff’s influence is discussed in Rudolf Haym, Die Romantische Schulc (4th ed , 
Berlin, 1920), chap. iv. 

7 S reaction and revolution 

not from freedom or the ability of its inhabitants individually con- 
sidered, nor from the fertility of its soil, nor from the size of its 
territory. Its power lies in its cohesiveness, in the unity of the whole 
state, and in its active head, the monarch. By emphasizing the ruler 
as the unified state in action Hegel often seems to divert attention 
from his collectivist theory of state sovereignty to an apparent 
identification of sovereignty with the monarch. So his system came 
to fit neatly into the national needs of Prussia, of which he became 
the official philosopher . 47 

Hegel combined his theory of the state with the belief that the 
organization of every government should be the result of an his- 
torical evolution. Thus he agreed with Burke, de Maistre, and 
S a vigny that the attempt to declare a new constitution by decree was 
futile. He followed Herder and Fichte in believing that every nation 
has a peculiar spirit and culture through which it makes its special 
contribution to world-civilization and presents a phase of the develop- 
ing world-spirit. Hence, instead of applying to political and social 
institutions the particular standard which happens to appeal to us 
as reasonable, we must judge institutions by their history, surround- 
ings, and environment. Hegel viewed all history as a vast panorama 
which portrayed the gradual unfolding of the universal spirit. Ideal 
“freedom” being the goal of this historic evolution, he distinguished 
four stages of development: the Oriental, in which the despot alone 
was free; then the Greek and the Roman, in which some men had 
become free; and finally the German, in which all would eventually 
be free; a vast evolutionary conception which has been one of Hegel’s 
chief contributions to modern thought . 48 

Hegel’s comments on the specific issues of his time hardly permit 
of classifying him as either a conservative or a liberal. He championed 
the king of his native state of Wiirttemberg in his struggle with the 

47 He provides expressly for war. War keeps a people from stagnation, and war must 
be the sole ai biter between sovereign states Private morality cannot apply to the state, 
for states are bound only by self-determined obligations, and each state must decide 
when its sovereign rights are invaded The judgment of history is the only judgment 
to be passed upon the state. It is Significant Hegel suggests nothing beyond the 
state; there is no hint of a confederation of nations representing the world-spirit. 

48 Cf. among the innumerable studies of Hegel, F. Rosenzweig, Hegel und der Slaat 
(2nd ed. > vols. Munich, 1920), F. Bulow, Die Entwicklung der Hegelschen Sozialphilo- 
sophie (Leipzig, 1920), G. R. Mure, Intro, to Hegel (Oxford, 1940) and H. Marcuse, 
Hegel and the Rise of Social Theory (Oxford, 1941). 


feudal interests and he pleaded for the extension of the jury system 
and for the publication of the debates of the German provincial as- 
semblies. Just before his death he wrote an article moderately favor- 
able to the English Reform Bill. But his liberalism was decidedly 
mild, a liberalism which held that while in some states a legislature 
was essential as a balance against the executive powers, the sovereign 
must make the ultimate decisions. He disliked the current liberal 
agitation of his time, “this particular kind of evil consciousness 
developed by weak eloquence. It is most insipid when it speaks of 
the spirit. It exhibits the greatest self-seeking and vanity when it has 
most on its tongue the words 'people and nation.’ ” 49 

Whatever may have been Hegel’s intention, his vast system, with 
its emphasis on the historical continuity and collective nature of 
society, contributed to the growth of various types of political and 
social thought. 510 Coleridge in England, Cousin in France, and Karl 
Marx in Germany were all in one way or another deeply influenced 
by Hegelianism. Coleridge became a defender of the old order in 
England, while Marx in the forties evolved out of Hegel’s thought 
much of the theology of modern socialism, and Cousin, who per- 
haps least understood Hegel’s thought, produced a compromise 
liberalism of the juste milieu that had favor in France under the 
Restoration and became the official philosophy of the July Monarchy. 

In conclusion, the question may well be raised as to whether the 
loose classification of the political and social thought of the nine- 
teenth century as conservative, liberal, and radical is not somewhat 
inadequate. It is an almost hopeless task to try to define a general 
outlook on life, a mental state like romanticism, and it is hardly 
less hopeless to attempt to force the broad flow of political and social 
thought into a few clearly marked channels. The philosophy of con- 
servatism was just taking form in the early part of the century; it 
shows all the contradictions and exaggerations of a formative period. 
The writers of the reaction, like most theorists, differed in their 
approach and often argued about mere details. They did not by 
any means foresee the more subtle implications of their systems. But 

49 Hegel, Werke (Berlin, 1854), VIII, 13. 

60 The protean character of Hegel’s political thought is interestingly shown in the 
fact that Frederick William HI of Prussia looked upon his philosophy of the state as 
the great support of his absolutism, whereas his successor, Frederick William IV, was 
equally convinced that his royal power was being undermined by this same philosophy. 

g 0 reaction and revolution 

this at least they had in common: they started with a profound dis- 
trust of rationalism and of all forms of undefined individualism. 
To be sure, their distrust or reason, analysis, and logic did not pre- 
vent them from constructing systems as complex and closely reasoned 
as any of those they attacked. Any one who has read Bonald or 
Hegel will be ready to admit that. Nevertheless, the conservative 
philosophy made a great contribution to the understanding of tne 
social structure. It emphasized not only the need for political re- 
straint and for the subordination of the individual to the community, 
but introduced into political thinking a certain historical-minded- 
ness, a concept of cultural evolution which was hardly less than 

This evolutionary and organic view of society is the basis of all 
social thought in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. We can- 
not think of human problems in anything but their historical set- 
ting and cannot conceive of introducing changes in the existing 
system without reference to the past of our institutions. The phe- 
nomenal growth of historical research and writing since the time of 
Napoleon may perhaps be taken as an indication of a growing need 
as well as of a revived interest. 

The general adoption of the historical approach did not in any 
sense bring with it the triumph of the conservative viewpoint. In- 
deed, the radicals soon discovered that the historical approach could 
be used to prove their claims just as effectively as the claims of the 
reactionaries. Saint-Simon, first of the great socialist writers, de- 
rived many of his basic ideas from de Maistre, while Comte, the 
disciple of Saint-Simon, never tired of praising Bonald, though he 
admitted having drawn some inspiration from Condorcet. The 
influence of Kant and Fichte can be traced in the growth of modern 
socialism. Lassalle and Jaures both understood socialism to be a 
moral movement philosophically rooted in the moral teaching of 
Kant and in collectivist theories like those presented in Fichte’s 
Der geschlossene Handels stoat. But of all these philosophers Hegel 
exercised perhaps the most direct influence. His dialectic method, 
his conception of the philosophy of history fascinated his contem- 
poraries. He was the guiding star of Marx in his formative years 


and the inspiration of countless other theorists. 51 It was something 
of an accident, then, that the evolutionary conception of society was 
first drafted into the service of reactionary thought. Not the sub- 
stance, but the method was the important contribution of the con- 
servative theorists; their emphasis on the life of the group and their 
historical method were of positively revolutionary importance. They 
dwarf completely any contributions made by liberal theorists m this 
same period. 

GL The later development of Head’s ideas has been traced m the recent studies of Paul 
Vogel “Ilegels Gesellschaftsbegriif und seme geschichtliche Fortbildung durch Lorenz 
Stem, Marx, Engels und Lassalle,” Kan *■ S r udien Erganzungsheft No 59 (Berlin, 1925), 
Paul Barth, Die GcschicntsplulosoPhie Hegels und der Hegchaner bv> anf Marx und 
Hartmann (end ed , Leipzig, 1925) , Julius Lownstein, Hcgels Staaisidcc, ihr Doppcl - 
gcsicht und ihr Einfluss vt n 19 Jahrhundert (Berlin, 1927), Rebecca Cooper, The Logi- 
cal Inilvcncc of Hegel on Marv (Seattle, 1925). I). Chizhevskii, ed , Hegel bei den Slavev 
(Reichenberg, 1934), A Koyre, “Hegel en Russie,” Monde Slave , 1936 and B. Jako 
wenko, Geschichte des Hcgelianismus m Russland , Vol. I, 1820-50 (Prague, 1940)- 

Chapter Four 



Liberalism in 1815 appeared to be a dying cause. The bloody tyranny 
of the French Republic and the financial anarchy that ensued had 
been followed by the despotic rule of Napoleon. It was small wonder 
that to many the events of the revolutionary era now seemed one 
long refutation of its philosophy. Decidedly, the principles of 1789 
had passed to the defensive. Liberalism, however, had its roots in 
needs and ideals that had not been satisfied, and its principles were 
not destined to remain in abeyance. Condorcet’s optimistic belief 
that “there will come a time when the sun will shine only on free 
men who know no master other than their own reason” seemed to 
small but determined groups like a veritable battle cry in a society 
where the governing classes were behaving as though 1815 were 
1715. The writings of Voltaire, Montesquieu, and Rousseau began 
to be reprinted, and, to the disgust and horror of those who ruled 
Europe from the throne and the altar, the ghost of the Enlighten- 
ment stalked again. Liberalism began to rally its forces and the older 
liberal programs were slowly reconstructed in the light of new con- 

This reconstruction had to proceed cautiously, for even those 
who were determined to block all attempts to return to the Ancien 
Regime were at the same time very fearful of the rule of the mob. 1 
For this reason liberal thought after 1815 lacked the daring originality 
of the theorizing of the eighteenth century. Fearful of abstract 
formulas, the liberals believed in the maintenance of social order and 
in the necessity of limiting power to a well-defined economic group. 

1 Ruggiero speaks of the appearance of this fear in Fiance as early as 1793 “The 
real and effective counter-revolution was now that of the revolutionaries of yesterday the 
liberal bourgeoisie.” G de Ruggiero, The History of European Liberalism (Oxford 
2927 ), 83. There is an interesting account of how Mazzmi’s father, a Jacobin of the 
1790 s, became a conservative in G. 0 . Griffith, Mazsim (New York, 1932), chap 1 



8 3 

Nor did they, in the early nineteenth century, have the same gen- 
eralized outlook they had had in the later eighteenth century, for 
the revolutionary storm had carried the liberal ideals of England 
and France to the south and east of Europe, to lands of very dif- 
ferent historic traditions. Hence, after 1815, liberal doctrines varied 
from country to country, both in emphasis and in intensity. In those 
states which had a long historic unity and independence, the liberals 2 
centered their efforts in a struggle against the old autocracy, the 
established church, and the aristocracy, and strove to establish a 
constitutional regime controlled by the upper middle class. Among 
peoples who were under foreign rule or who were dissatisfied with 
the weakness of their governments, aspirations for national unity 
and freedom took first place. But, differing in importance and in the 
order in which they presented themselves, all of these ideals were 
summed up in a word understood alike by their followers and their 
enemies. That word was “liberty.” 

Much the most characteristic thinker in the transformation of 
the liberal thought of the eighteenth century into that of the nine- 
teenth was Jeremy Bentham. Bentham shared the intellectual, daring 
and the optimism of the thinEers~o"Fthe Enlightenment, but he had, 
in aH 3 itidh 7 the“practical"outlook of one trained in English law. He 
denounced ”the ‘whole~ldea" of natural rights and described" the 
Declaration of the Rights of Man as “a hodge-podge of confusion 
and absurdity.” In all his writings he continually condemned the 
dogmatizing spirit of the French philo sophes , though often he was 
hi mself al most as d ogmatic. Bentham’s mind was always that ofa 
practical reformer. Where Blackstone, Burke, and de Maistre asked 
of every institution, “How has it grown?” and where Voltaire and 
Tom Paine inquired, “How does it conform to reason?” Bentham 
demanded quite simply, “How does it work?” Fie was sure that 
democracy would some day prevail because, as men sought their 
own welfare, a government by the majority would necessarily ensure 
the happiness of more people than any other. But any government 
was to him a necessary evil; its only justification lay in the political;' 
and economic liberty it allowed and in the utility of its organization! 
in securing “the greatest good of the greatest number.” Benthamj 

2 At this time the liberals usually were called reformers or radicals in England, and 
independants in France The word liberal was first used m Spam. 


shared the view of Adam Smith, that enlightened selfishness is the 
key to social advancement. For sixty years he subjected nearly every 
institution to a searching analysis. Old restrictions on trade, the 
anomalies of the British parliamentary regime and of all the existing 
legal and political systems of Europe, the evils of religious restric- 
tions, the abuses of prisons, of criminal law and of bad educational 
systems were all examined by this amazingly industrious and fertile 
mind. For every possible type of abuse he proposed some very 
specific remedies. “Liberty” and “Utility” were his watchwords, and 
practical reform his only aim. His position in the history of liberal 
thought is that of a great originator of social expedients. 

The fact that the weakening of the power of the British aristoc- 
racy in 1832 led to neither a social upheaval nor administrative chaos 
was due largely to the political experiments— -the reform of local 
government and of the civil service, of police administration, and of 
colonial self-government — which Bentham’s disciples developed by 
his methods. No thinker of the early nineteenth century has left his 
mark on more fields of social thought. In England his ideas were 
spread by a group known as the “Philosophic Radicals,” and 
on the continent by such men as Dumont, Destutt de Tracy, and 
Daunou. But his influence was confined to no school or country. 
To be the servant not only of England but of all nations professing 
liberal opinions was his great desire. He had correspondents in the 
•United States, in France, Spain, Portugal, Greece, Russia, Bavaria, 
Poland, and Latin America; everywhere his works were regarded as 
textbooks of liberalism. 3 Through Bentham’s writings may be 
traced the process by which much of the epoch-making theorizing 
of eighteenth-century liberalism was reduced to terms a business man 
of the nineteenth century could understand. 4 

The masters of commerce and industry were becoming increas- 
ingly convinced that the legal, ecclesiastical, and economic systems 
which had been suitable for the feudal state had lost their utility 

3 During his lifetime, Bentham’s greatest influence was not in England, but m Spain— 
especially on Martinez de la Rosa— and in Spanish America Before his death in 1832, 
forty thousand copies of his works in French had been sold m Spanish Amerca alone. Cf. 
V. A. Belaunde, Bolivar and the Political TS ought ot the Spanish- Amen can Revolutions 
(Baltimore, 1938). 

* The best studies of Bentbam are those of Leslie Stephen, The English Utilitarians 
(3 vols , London. 1900), I, chaps, v and vi, and of Elie Halevy, The Growth of Philosophic 
Radicalism (New York, 1928). 


and would have to be revised. In this sense liberalism was essen- 
tially the creed of the bourgeoisie. Among the Slavs, Magyars, and 
Italians of the Hapsburg domain, and also in Russia, liberal ideas 
were taken up by small groups of noblemen. In Poland, Ireland, 
Belgium, and northern Italy some of its tenets found support among 
the lower Catholic clergy. But liberalism would never have assumed 
the forms it did without the backing of the commercial classes of 
western Europe, particularly of England and France. Here, as 
nearly always in history, political thought became the summary of 
an experience rationalized and universalized. 


The erection of a free bourgeois state required first of all the 
liberation of business from a mass of old mercantilist regulations. 
Adam Smith had already dealt the classic blow to the theories 
underlying these regulations, and by 1815 a regime of free indus- 
trial competition had come into force in England and France. The 
state in both these countries had renounced all rights of interference 
either with the organization of production or with the relations of 
masters and men, except always the right of prohibiting trade- 
unions. In other states, however, mercantilism, as a set of economic 
and political doctrines and as the practice of governments, was by 
no means dead. In the field of economic theory, the attack on 
mercantilism was now carried across the continent. A French econ- 
omist, J. B. Say, proclaimed Smith’s gospel in a series of lucid stud- 
ies, and within a few years Ricardo in England and List in 
Germany modified the ideas of Smith and Say to suit the develop- 
ing economic conditions. All these thinkers, despite sharp disagree- 
ments in detail, were of one mind in condemning the older type 
of governmental regulation which they held to be ruinous to com- 
merce and industry. 

The liberal point of view, as it was understood by the leaders of 
business, is well set forth in Macaulay’s essay on Southey, written in 
1830. “Our rulers will best promote the improvement of the nation 
by confining themselves strictly to their legitimate duties, by leaving 
capital to find its most lucrative course, commodities their fair price, 
industry and intelligence their natural reward, idleness and folly 


their natural punishment, by maintaining peace, by defending 
property, by diminishing the price of law and by observing strict 
economy in every department of the state. Let the government do 
this, the people will do the rest. 5 ’ The state, in this conception, has 
but three functions— defense, justice, and the construction and super- 
vision of certain public works and institutions which it can never 
be to the interest of a small group of individuals to maintain. Thus, 
as the liberals came into political power, nearly all their reforms 
were, in the first instance, negative. They sought to remove what 
they regarded as abuses, and they liberated men from disabilities 
through abolition, repeal, and removal of old regulations. 

The state, moreover, must be controlled and directed by those 
who will use it to create the atmosphere in which production flour- 
ishes. In this period factory owners were just beginning to possess 
a power that promised to conquer the world as no Caesar or Napo- 
leon had ever conquered it. It looked as if progress, now that man 
had found its secret, was to follow a rapid and unbroken course, 
provided the entrepreneurs be allowed to do everything possible to 
speed up production. Production, to many, appeared to have even 
a positive moral value. “The spirit of striving for a steady increase 
in mental and bodily acquirements,” wrote List, “characterizes a 
state devoted to manufactures and commerce, while in a country 
devoted merely to agriculture, dullness of mind, awkwardness of 
body, and a want of culture, prosperity, and liberty prevail.” 3 The 
state should be efficiently organized just as business was being or- 
ganized by entrepreneurs. Both should be controlled by the same 
group, the real people in society, the upper middle class. Manufac- 
turers and economists found many arguments to support this view. 
They considered it a disgrace for a people to remain a nation of 
farmers and craftsmen, and, more than a disgrace, a danger, since 
the nation should be able to manufacture its own war equipment. 
Moreover, the manufacturing groups, especially in England, were 
angry when they saw that, by exploiting mineral wealth, they were 
giving huge royalties to the owners, and that, by stimulating the 
growth of large urban centers, they were increasing the value 
of agricultural products. The work of the business leaders was thus 

G C Gide and Rist, History of Economic Doctrines (New York, 1915), 273-274. 


enriching the class who owned the large estates, yet the aristocracy,; 
hostile or indifferent to these rising interests, would allow them no 
voice in the government. Finally, the great bankers and manufac- 
turers were particularly irritated after 1815 because of the acute 
economic maladjustment which followed the sudden return of peace. 
More than ever before they were convinced that, if they could con- 
trol the government, conditions would grow better. 

Saint-Simon’s famous parable, published in 1819, symbolizes this 
point of view. “Let us suppose,” he wrote, “that France suddenly 
loses fifty of her first-class doctors, fifty first-class bankers, two hun- 
dred of her best merchants, six hundred of her foremost agricul- 
turalists, five hundred of her capable ironmasters” — and so on, 
enumerating the principal industries. “Since these men are its most 
indispensable producers, the minute it loses these, the nation will 
degenerate into a mere lifeless body. Let us make another supposi- 
tion. Imagine that France retains her men of genius, whether in 
the arts and sciences or in the crafts and industries, but has the 
misfortune to lose on the same day the king, the king’s brother, 
the Due d’Angouleme, and all the other members of the royal 
family, all the great officers of the crown, all ministers of state, all 
the marshals, cardinals, archbishops, bishops, grand vicars, and 
canons, all prefects and subprefects, all government employees, all 
the judges, and, in addition to all these men, a hundred thousand 
landed proprietors — the cream of her nobility. Such an overwhelm- 
ing catastrophe would certainly aggrieve the French, for they are 
a kindly-disposed nation. But the loss of a hundred and thirty thou- 
sand of the best-reputed individuals in the state would give rise to 
sorrow of a purely sentimental kind; it would not cause the com- 
munity the least inconvenience.” 6 In economic matters, then, 
liberalism was no longer satisfied with mere toleration. It pro- 
posed to go further and to get rid of the old mercantilist regulations, 
to reform the old legal systems, and, finally, to allow the commer- 
cial classes to take over the control of the state. The result hoped 
for by the leaders of the middle class was a more productive society 
under their own governance. 

8 U orqanisatevr (Paris, 1819), Part I, 10-20. 


The leaders o£ the middle class idealized their way of life and 
passed on this ideal to lower social strata. The praise given by the 
great factory owners in England to hard work and thrift shows 
the society of the early nineteenth century fostering those forms of 
idealism which suited its economic program. This accounts, at least 
in part, for the type of humanitarianism found among such groups 
as the Clapham Sect, and in the various societies founded in Eng- 
land and France for assisting the lower classes, “the deserving poor,” 
as they were called by the British humanitarians who wished to in- 
troduce their bourgeois virtues among the masses. Besides working 
for the abolition of the slave trade, and later for the improvement 
of prisons, they were greatly interested in the establishment of 
schools and savings banks. The interrelation of the various cur- 
rents of reform is shown in a remark of Bentham’s. It would not 
be expected that Bentham, who held the churches responsible for 
the persistence of many abuses, would have had much patience 
with Wilberforce and his pious friends, “The Saints,” yet when 
Bentham learned of their work in trying to abolish the slave trade, 
he remarked, “Well, if to be an anti-slavist is to be a ‘Saint/ saint- 
ship for me. I am a Saint!” 7 

The economic aspects of Liberalism after 1815 were stressed par- 
ticularly by the commercial classes in England and France, whence 
have come most of the ideals and attitudes of modern European 
liberalism. But even in countries where almost no industrial develop- 
ment had taken place there was the same close relationship between 
the ideas of laissez-faire economics and the program of political 
liberalism. Count Szechenyi, the founder of modern Hungarian 
liberalism, was deeply interested in developing industry as a part 
of his program for improving Hungary. In 1830 he published a 
book, On Credit, which embodied these ideas. The Italian journals 
after 1818 show even more clearly this faith in commerce and in- 
' dustry as the vivifying elements in civilization. France and England 
were recognized as the leaders, especially England, which one 
Italian periodical praised as a nation, “so industrious, commercially 
so active, so enterprising, in a word, mistress of the earth. Where 

Haievy, History of the English People in 1815 (N. Y., 1924), 510. 


eke prevails that union of knowledge, of interests, of power of all 
sorts that is to be found at London, at Manchester, at Liverpool?” 8 

Such was the world of ideas in which the young Cavour grew up. 
In one of his early letters he wrote, “This is not the time for mathe- 
matics; one must study economics; the world progresses. 559 The 
liberalism of Cavour’s later life was, at least in part, rooted in his 
belief that a better future for Italy was possible only through a free 
and active commerce, and through the application of science to 
agriculture and industry. In the same way List had, by 1818, de- 
cided that the German people could never be united and politically 
free until a middle class had built up its economic power and the 
German states had been brought together in a customs union. Even, 
in eastern Europe the economic ideas of Adam Smith and J. B. 
Say, especially of the latter, spread along with the political ideals 
of constitutionalism. Writing in 1818 of life in St. Petersburg, Push- 
kin says that in the circles which produced the Decembrist move- 
ment “political economy is in fashion. 5510 Say’s work was, even be-' 
fore 1820, translated and circulated among the Greek nationalists. 
In 1829 Carlyle, in his Signs of the Times , summed up the spirit 
of the age from the point of view of the leaders of die rising middle 
class; “This age, with its whole undivided might, forwards, teaches, 
and practises the greatest art of adapting means to ends. 55 The 
masters of this art should be given a free hand to build and to 
direct a better society. 


There arose after 1815 a growing recognition that economic 
rights must be guaranteed by political rights. Freedom to possess 
property, to follow any profession or trade, and to make new types 
of contract was of little value without a corresponding freedom to 
speak, to publish, and to influence the government through the vote. 
The eighteenth century had already decided that such political rights 
could be realized only by embodying them in a written constitution. 
The French Revolution, in spite of its mistakes, had furthered this 
idea, and there were now in every European state liberal groups in- 

8 K R. Greenfield, “Economic Ideas and Facts in the Early Period of the Risorgimento,” 
American Historical Review, XXXVI (1930), 36 

9 A J. Whyte, The Early Life and Letters of Cavour (Oxford, 1925), xii. 

10 E J. Simmons m Harvard Studies and Notes in Philology, XIII (1931), 289. 



terested in constitutional problems. The English Constitution was 
greatly admired, partly because of its conservative character, but 
also because many liberal business men believed that the free in- 
stitutions which England had long possessed were the cause of her 
political and economic power. 11 The English system of government, 
however, could be introduced on the continent only by embody- 
ing it in a formal document. The French Constitution of 1791— 
issued before the revolution had turned Jacobin— the Spanish Con- 
stitution of 1812, the French Charter of 1814, and, after the revolu- 
tions of 1830, the Belgian Constitution of 1831, all served as models. 
They were ordinarily preferred to the American Constitution of 
1787 because they provided for limited monarchies rather than for 
a republic. 

Programs of political reform in England all centered, about meth- 
ods of extending the existing system. The Whigs, the traditional 
liberal party, possessed neither a philosophy nor a program of re- 
form. During the Napoleonic wars, their official leaders had retired 
to private life. The few who remained active in politics held to the 
old “principles of 1688,” though they were careful to show their 
disapproval of the various types of radicalism recently advocated 
by Godwin and Tom Paine and now being brought to public at- 
tention by Bentham and his band of “Philosophic Radicals.” In 
the period between Waterloo and the Reform Bill the most influ- 
ential figure among the disunited forces of English liberalism was 
the popular journalist, William Cobbett. While Godwin wrote 
monotonous books which nobody read, and while Bentham was 
gathering a few followers, Cobbett’s views became the common 
property of thousands of Englishmen. Cobbett was, however, no 
revolutionary. He defended the crown and the House of Lords as 
well as most of the British Constitution, and he attacked all revo- 
lutionary methods. Furthermore, like most of the liberal theorists 
on the continent he did not believe in universal suffrage. “I have,” 
he remarked, witnessed its effects too attentively and with too 

“The English themselves attributed their superiority to their political organization. 
Lady Morgan, speaking of the lack of conveniences m the better houses m Milan, wrote, 
with a certain smugness, “England has the best locks and hinges, as she has the best 
steam engines and the best navies, because she has long enjoyed the most perfect of 
known political constitution'” Lady S. Morgan, Italy (London, 1821), I, 205 




much disgust ever to think of it with approbation.” 12 Neverthe- 
less, he did insist, with a furious sincerity, that Parliament must 
be reformed and that the British Constitution must be brought up 
to date. For these beliefs he found practical reasons that made a 
wide appeal. The middle class would have to gain control over 
the raising and expenditure of public funds, for taxes were levied 
in favor of the landed aristocrats. The interest on the huge war 
debt, combined with the lavish granting of sinecures and pensions, 
was an intolerable burden on industry and the industrial classes. 
If these burdens were to be redistributed, Parliament would have 
to be reformed by redistricting the seats and by extending the 

Addressing himself to the workers, Cobbett warned the dissatis- 
fied elements that it was useless to break machines and to burn 
ricks, but that they, too, must work for the reform of Parliament. 
As a result of his agitation, the idea that political reform was a 
means to social reform dominated a large section of working-class 
opinion until after the collapse of the Chartist movement m the 
1840’s. The cautiousness of Cobbett’s liberalism, in spite of the vehe- 
mence of his language, is shown in his advice to the lower classes. 
He summed up his general attitude when he wrote, “We want noth- 
ing new; we want only what our forefathers enjoyed, what the 
stock-jobbers, and place-hunters, and cotton-lords have taken away.” 
It has often been remarked that England might have been much 
nearer a revolution in the difficult years that followed Waterloo had 
not this fighting journalist — one of the men who might have led 
such a revolution — thrown the whole of his influence on the side 
of peaceful reform. His curious combination of moderation in doc- 
trine with rashness of statement gave him the widest hearing of 
any British liberal of his generation. Hazlitt said of Cobbett that 
he formed “a fourth estate of himself ” 13 

The attention of the liberal groups in France, in some of the 
German states, and in Poland was focused on the working of the 
parliamentary regime established by the new constitutions granted 

13 W. Cobbett, Political Works, ed J M Cobbett (London, 1835 ff.), VIII, 51. 

13 There are two stimulating studies of Cobbett G K. Chesterton, William Cobbett 
(London, 1 925); and the more detailed biography by G D. H. Cole, The Life of William 
Cobbett (3rd ed , London, 1947). 


in 1814 or in the years immediately following. These new instru- 
ments of government— -in every case royal grants— spoke not of 
the rights possessed by men in general, as had the revolutionary con- 
stitutions, but of the rights granted to Frenchmen or Wurttem- 
bergers or Poles in particular. This restriction reflected the 
determination of the monarchs to maintain the principle of the final 
authority of the ruler who, within the limits of his own realm, might 
issue whatever ordinances he chose. The ambiguity of these charters 
usually made them capable of several interpretations. The conserva- 
tive groups intended to ignore them; the liberals were bent on en- 
larging or even on replacing them as soon as possible. In states where 
no constitutions existed, the liberals agitated to secure grants of 
political guarantees. 14 

The one common idea in the constitutional theorizing of the 
period was that all authority, whether of the monarch or of the 
people, must be limited. All regimes, it was argued, must be kept 
within the “bounds of reason and common sense,” through recipro- 
cal checks and balances between the legislative, executive, and 
judicial powers. This would prevent all types of tyranny. Within 
these limits the practical questions usually discussed were those of 
just how far the franchise should be extended, of exactly how much 
liberty was to be allowed the press, and to whom the ministry should 
be responsible. The desire for an English type of limited monarchy 
is reflected in the French expression current among liberals all over 
Europe, “A throne surrounded by republican institutions,” and in 
, Thiers’ dictum, “The king reigns, but does not rule.” After 1815 
the liberal thinkers and politicians were attacking the privileges of 
kings, nobles, and priests, but they had no intention of turning 
control over to the masses. They failed to realize — or they ignored 
the fact — that legal rights won by one class would later become a 
burden on the class beneath them. Their tendency was to view their 
ideal of the state and of society as a final one. Like all parties in 
opposition, they were in fact working only for an extension of 

The great prophet of constitutionalism on the continent was 

“Cf' Barthelemy ,L> introduction du regime parlementaire en France sous Louis 

llr? A f? ar T ls ' x ? 04 >’ T and R Oeshtj, Die Bayensche Verfassungskunde 

von 1818 und die Charte Ludwigs XVIII (Munich, 19x4) 



Montesquieu. His prestige had suffered less than that of any other 
fhilosophe of the Enlightenment. By the end of the Napoleonic 
wars, many of his views on constitutional monarchy had found their 
way into the fundamental laws of European states. Liberals of the 
post-war period found in him the golden mean — the juste milieu , , 
as Guizot and Victor Cousin were soon to name it — between the 
excesses of revolutionary ardor and the dangers of reaction. Montes- 
quieu was liked above all because of his vagueness on the subject 
of sovereignty. He served, in this respect, as an antidote to theorists 
like Rousseau and de Maistre who would have absolute authority 
put into the hands of powers now feared by the middle class. The 
influence of Montesquieu was spread by a number of French 
writers who, in one way or another, derived their chief ideas from 
him: Benjamin Constant and the group known as the Doctrinaires , 
especially Royer-Collard, Guizot, and Cousin. 

Constant may be taken as typical of the group. As a young man 
he had spent much time in England; he therefore understood the 
working of the British parliamentary system better than did any 
other continental theorist. After 1819, when he became one of the 
liberal leaders of the French Chamber of Deputies, he worked to 
introduce the English political regime into France. He was par- 
ticularly interested in freeing the press, in extending the jury system,, 
in assuring religious freedom, in developing a system of checks 
and balances in the government, and in decentralizing the state 
so as to give greater power to local organs of government. All 
through Constant’s theorizing there is an attempt to fix the bound- 
ary beyond which the state may not encroach on individual rights. 
“There is,” he said, “a part of human existence which is wholly 
beyond social control, . . . men have rights which even the totality 
of the citizens cannot legitimately invade.” “The liberty of the in- 
dividual,” he insisted, “is the object of all human association; on 
it rest public and private morality; on it are based the calculations 
of industry and commerce, ai^d without it there is neither peace, 
dignity, nor happiness for men.” Finally, he defined liberty as “the 
peaceful enjoyment of private independence; the right to pursue 
our own ends unimpeded, so long as they do not interfere with 



extension of representative government by granting universal suf- 
frage. In attacking the gospel of natural rights, and in devoting 
attention to the reform of specific abuses, he took a line similar to 
that of Bentham. The Commentaire , which forms only part of a 
vast philosophic scheme, was praised by Ricardo and by Jefferson, 
who translated it into English. It found readers among the Spanish 
and Italian liberals, and its republican implications made it a favorite 
book of Pestel, the leading thinker among the Russian Decembrists. 
Both Destutt de Tracy and Daunou, who were close friends, ad- 
mired the government of the United States under which, they main- 
tained, men enjoyed more liberty than under the British Constitu- 
tion. Their influence extended not only to the liberal monarchists, 
but also to the few republican groups which were forming during the 

Though they were more conservative, the French Doctrinaires , 
Guizot, Royer-Collard, and Victor Cousin, as well as the rising his- 
torical writers, Mignet and Thiers, shared many of the same political 
views. All were, at this time, liberal monarchists and their doctrines 
became more or less the official ones of the July Monarchy. Through- 
out the writings of Guizot and Royer-Collard runs the idea that 
the best government is a constitutional monarchy with a strong, able 
king, an honest nobility, and a liberty-loving but not revolutionary 
people. They believed that some constitutional compromise between 
monarchy and democracy could be made and that such arrange- 
ments would be permanent, whereas Constant and Destutt de Tracy 
shared Bentham’s conviction that monarchy was only a transitional 
stage between absolutism and a bourgeois republic. The Doctrinaires 
disagreed with their more liberal contemporaries also as to the moral 
value of the state. To them the state was no merely negative organ 
of control, but a union for ideal ends. Their view of the state and 
their appeal to generalized laws of reason and history reveal the 
influence of the German Idealist Philosophers which began to spread 
in France about 1820, largely through the writing and teaching of 
Cousin. The Doctrinaires had connections also with the British 
Evangelicals, particularly with the Clapham Sect, and their influence 
may be seen in the Spanish, Italian, and Russian liberal movements. 
At home, Royer-Collard was heard chiefly in the Chamber of Depu- 



ties, whereas Guizot’s views and those o£ Cousin became known 
through their writings and through the students who crowded their 
classrooms at the Sorbonne and the College de France. Mignet and 
Thiers, who belonged to a younger generation, began to have a 
following only at the end of the Restoration period. 18 

Constitutional theories of similar character were circulated in 
Spain, Russia, Poland, Italy, and in some of the German states. 
The Spanish liberals, of whom Martinez de la Rosa was the most 
able writer, read Montesquieu, Bentham, and Constant, and tried to 
apply their ideas to Spain. In Russia, a group of young nobles who 
had served in the Napoleonic wars read the same political treatises 
and began to plot the overthrow of the tsarist despotism. The move- 
ment there, as in Italy, contained currents of republicanism. The 
Poles were mostly under the influence of Constant, and a group of 
the liberals there were known as the Renjaminists. 

The most substantial treatises on constitutionalism after those of 
Bentham and Constant were written by German statesmen and 
scholars. Rotteck, a professor in the University of Freiburg, was 
the leading constitutional writer in South Germany. His Uber 
stehende Heere und N dtionahniliz (1816) and a W eltgeschichte 
(1812-1827) were the most important of a series of works in which 
he defended the ideals of constitutional government. He attacked 
Savigny and his school for sacrificing the present to the past, and 
for refusing their contemporaries the right to prepare a better future. 
Rotteck’s views were attractively presented. As Treitschke said, “he 
took the word from the mouths of the well-to-do townsmen and 
peasants of the South, and, with invincible courage and the fervent 
eloquence of conviction, announced what all were obscurely feel- 
ing.” 13 Until his death in 1840 he remained one of the chief figures 
in the South German liberal movement. Schlosser, professor of his- 
tory at Heidelberg and the author of a widely read W eltgeschichte 
(1815 ff.), turned his teaching and writing into a similar denuncia- 
tion of kings and nobles. 

In northern Germany Dahlmann, professor at Kiel and from 1829 

J* 0n Guizot the fundamental work is now Charles Pouthas, Guizot pendant la 
Restaur atton (Paris ,1923) On Royer-Collard see Robert de Nesmes-Desmarets, Let 
doctrines pohtiques de Royer-Collard (Paris, 1908), and the essay in H. T. LaskL 
Authority m the Modern State (New Haven, 1919), chap. iv. 

38 Treitschke, op. cit, II, 345. 



to 1837 at the University of Gottingen, tried to interest the intel- 
lectual classes m the cause of constitutional monarchy. The 
Hanoverian Constitution of 1832 was largely his work, but the best 
statement of his theories is his Die Poll til auf den Grnnd und das 
Mass der gegebenen Zustande zunic\gefuhrt, which was not pub- 
lished until 1835. The English Constitution, according to Dahlmann, 
is rooted in the old Germanic ideals of freedom and is, therefore, 
the highest form of government for all Germanic peoples. To meet 
the needs of the German states he proposed to liberalize the govern- 
ments by giving the old medieval assemblies of estates more con- 
trol over expenditure and local administration. 20 Fries, a professor 
of philosophy at Jena, and the author of Vom deutschen Bund und 
deutscher Staatsverfassung (1817) was the chief intellectual influence 
in the Burschenschaften , while in Prussia the outstanding liberal 
theorist, Wilhelm von Humboldt, gave a classic statement of the 
ideas of Adam Smith and Montesquieu in his Ideen zu einem 
Versuch , die Grenzen der W ir\sam\eit des Staates zu bestimmen 
(1792, pub. 1851). After 1815 Humboldt turned to conservatism. 
The progress of his political thought well illustrates the general 
movement of Germany during this period away from liberal ideals. 
Many of the theorists mentioned, as well as the poet, Arndt, the 
statesman, Stein, and Jahn, the famous Turnvater , were persecuted 
and forced into retirement. Such liberal theories as still found ex- 
pression were based on an English rather than on a French ideal of 
free government. Stein’s statement that “in England are most purely 
developed and preserved the foundations of the sort of constitution 
toward which all European nations are striving,” and Riickert’s 
line, “O build we now a temple on Albion’s example,” indicate the 
temper of the liberal thought which survived in Germany after 1815. 


The liberals of the restoration wished not only to curb the power 
of absolute monarchs, and to take over the direction of society from 
them and from the nobles; they were also strongly opposed to the 
great power and influence exerted by the established churches. 
Their demand for religious freedom and for the limitation of the 

^ Cf. E. R. Huber, Dahlmann und die deutsche V erfassnngsbeivcgung (Hamburg, 1937)1 


influence of the clergy in politics was by no means novel It had 
been at the basis of much of the liberal thought of seventeenth- 
century England and of eighteenth-century France. In England, 
the landowners had long been Anglican, the men of commerce 
largely nonconformist. Since Stuart times the latter had been dis- 
trustful of a government whose courts had at every turn hampered 
the activities of trade and manufacture in the interest of religious 
conformity. The liberal tradition, therefore, involved the belief that 
economic, political, and religious freedom were but aspects of a 
single program for the emancipation of the middle class. This ideal, 
whose origins were English, had spread to the continent during 
the eighteenth century. 

The revolutionary governments had carried some of these ideas 
into practice. The properties of the church had been confiscated not 
only in France but also in parts of Germany, Italy, and Spain. In 
most countries inroads had been made on the prerogatives of the 
clergy. Above all the revolution had spread the idea of the lay state, 
an organization without any ecclesiastical connections and one which 
demanded an all-absorbing loyalty from its citizens. When the 
monarchs returned in 1815, however, the governments again 
showered favors on the clergy, and during the restoration, church 
and state were almost everywhere in close cooperation. The prob- 
lem of the relation of church and state was more acute in Catholic 
countries, for in the Protestant states, in Russia, and among the 
Christian peoples of the Balkans, the state had long before brought 
the church within its control, though nowhere in Europe did the 
church exist as a private corporation. The quarrel between clericals 
and anticlericals in the period after 1815 was usually centered on 
a number of specific issues: Should the clergy or the government 
control education, and marriage and divorce? and Should the church 
receive back all or part of its confiscated property? Then there was 
the further question whether or not the church should be allowed 
to influence the government through controlling the votes of the 
faithful and the actions of the administrative personnel. 

The skepticism of the Enlightenment had by no means disap- 
peared; indeed, it sometimes gave edge to the more immediately 
practical reasons for attacking the encroachments of the clergy. Some 



of the most outstanding liberals of the period were avowed free 
thinkers. Bentham, for example, declared that all he admired in 
Jesus was His humanitarianism, little of which had apparently sur- 
vived in the organized churches. The various shades of anticleri- 
calism are best revealed in France where clericals and anticlericals 
were most evenly matched. On the whole this anticlerical thought 
is surprisingly timid. Few liberals were as outspoken as Bentham. 
Constant was as cautious in his views on the church as he was in 
his constitutional theories. Like most of the liberal thinkers of his 
generation he disliked pretentious priests of all stripes, and he 
feared the new ultramontanism of Rome. But at the same time he 
saw in the church a curb on the violence of the masses. Hence, he 
supported the Napoleonic Concordat of 1801 just as he supported 
the Charter of 1814. 

Victor Cousin represented this attitude in a philosophy of com- 
promise which admirably suited the spirit of the age. Religion and 
philosophy had the same end, he declared, but religion should always 
have a great hold on the masses while philosophy could safely be 
made the guide of only the few. A group of Cousin’s friends founded 
in 1821 the Socicte de la morale chretienne , which in 1825 offered a 
prize for the best proposals on the place the church should hold in 
modern society. The award went to a Swiss pastor, Vinet, whose 
essay was based on the idea that religious liberty is the foundation 
of civil liberty, and that church and state must be separated. No 
European government at the time would have considered adopting 
such a program. It was only among the small republican groups 
on the continent and among Bentham’s followers in England that 
anticlericalism still smacked of the bitterness of the Age of Voltaire. 
These radicals would have reduced all churches to the status of 
purely private organizations. As the elder Littre said, “tant cru, tant 
paye? The point of view of the average liberal, however, was well 
expressed by Beranger and Paul Louis Courier who, though they 
railed at the meddling of the bishops and of the Jesuits in politics, 
praised the simple priest and his God, whom Beranger called “le 
Dieu des bons gens” — a benign bourgeois deity in the sky who 
looks down disapprovingly on all kings, Jesuits, and Jacobins. 21 In 

21 Cf M Bnllant, “Le masque et le visaqe de Courier,” Corrcspondant „ 1925? L. Four, 
La vie ai chansons de Beranger (Paris, 1930), and Lucas-Dubreton, Beranger (Paris, 
* 934 ) 



the religious field as in the political, the liberal thinkers were every- 
where searching for a middle course. The exaggerated pretensions 
of the priests, which often aroused the ire even of devout Catholics, 
would have to be curbed without destroying the church. It was a 
general middle-class attitude. These people went to church service 
after 1815, as they had never gone in the later eighteenth century, 
though their stricter observance was probably due less to purely 
religious reasons, than to their belief in the church as a bulwark 
of social stability. 

The liberal forces came most sharply into disagreement with the 
organized churches on the question of education. 22 The rising mid- 
dle class saw in the extension of free education a means of helping 
their children rise in the world, of preparing their class for self- 
government, and of improving morality among the lower strata. 23 
The nationalist groups in Italy and Germany, and among the Slavic 
peoples ruled by the Hapsburg and the Ottoman governments, took 
up the idea that schools could be used to further a sense of national 
solidarity. Liberals everywhere were, therefore, interested in freeing 
education from clerical control and in extending it. Education, they 
believed, would increase industrial efficiency, improve public moral- 
ity, curb mob violence, inculcate national ideals, and help the middle 
class to strengthen its position in society. To be effective such a 
system of instruction would have to be organized as a state institu- 
tion, or, in the case of subject nationalities, on a national basis. 

This liberal program for promoting the interests of society by state 
education was opposed by most of the conservative forces of the 
time. Especially were the established churches hostile to such re- 
forms. Most of the governments apparently shared the view of the 
member of the British House of Commons who declared in a debate 

that education would teach the masses “to despise their lot in life 
instead of making them good servants; instead of teaching them 

22 The best introductions to the whole subject of education in this period are J W 
Adamson, English Education , 1789-1902 (Cambridge, 1930), and E. H. Reisner, 
Nationalism atid Education since 1789 (New York, 1922) 

2S ,I rx I 79 2 Condorcet wrote, A free constitution, which should not be correspondent 
to tne universal instruction of citizens, would come to destruction after a few conflicts, 
and would degenerate into one of those forms of government which cannot preserve the 
peace among an ignorant and corrupt people ” E. P Cuhberley, The History of Educa - 
(Boston, 19=0), 51S Adam Smith had defended the extension of education as the 
ment 1 ” 63 * 15 *° r ^ eepm£ tiie masses from being “misled into wanton opposition to govern- 



subordination, it would render them fractious; it would enable 
them to read seditious pamphlets, vicious books, and publications 
against Christianity; it would render them insolent to their su- 
periors.” 24 Even in France and in Prussia, where elaborate systems 
of state schools had been instituted before 1815, the hostility of the 
governing classes threatened their existence and seriously interfered 
with their work. 

In most countries the extension of popular education depended 
entirely on private enterprise. The Nonconformist sects in England 
conducted a large number of Sunday schools — often with the open 
disapproval of the Anglican clergy. The lower classes were taught 
to read the Bible, but often other subjects were added, arithmetic, 
interestingly enough, coming first. 25 The work of the British Sunday 
schools was soon supplemented by other types of popular instruc- 
tion. Bell, an English parson, and Lancaster, a Quaker, working in- 
dependently developed similar systems of training large numbers 
of children, by the use of student monitors, to read, to write, and 
to figure. This system, known as the Monitorial, or Mutual System, 
was very cheap to operate, but it lacked thoroughness. Still, at a 
time when the state would do practically nothing for education it 
could be used to teach large numbers the rudiments of reading and 
writing and consequently it had a wide appeal. It was used in parts 
of France, where the Societe de Vinstruction Mementaire collected 
funds for it, though by 1830 the clericals had practically driven it 
out. It was introduced also into Germany, Russia, Italy, Canada, the 
United States, and South America. The first Bulgarian national 
school, opened in 1835, followed the system of Lancaster, which 
had been applied earlier in Greek nationalist schools in the Ionian 
Islands, and was extremely popular with Protestant missionaries in 
southeastern Europe and in Anatolia. 

Wherever men were interested in liberal ideas, this interest in 
new forms of popular education was to be found. A dozen or more 
educational societies were founded in England in the first decades 
of the nineteenth century, while similar societies appeared in France, 

a* G M Trevelyan, British History m the 19th Century (New York, 1922). 162 note. 

25 This emphasis on teaching arithmetic, found in most of the early nineteenth-centnry 
school programs, together with a similar emphasis on fine penmanship, shows that the 
schools were, in part, regarded as training places for those who were to enter business. 



usually under Protestant auspices. Bentham and Brougham in Eng- 
land and Guizot and Cousin in France were, during the x82o’s 
and 1830’s, the leaders in these movements. In 1828, under the 
guidance of Bentham and Brougham, an important experiment in 
higher education was instituted through the opening of University 
College in London. Nonconformists and freethinkers, excluded from 
Oxford and Cambridge, were freely admitted. The curriculum ig- 
nored theology and emphasized science and history. Indeed, the 
new college was pervaded almost from the start with a spirit of 
scientific inquiry, found at this time only in the German and Scotch 

Other types of schools were opened. In England the leaders of 
the skilled trades organized Mechanics’ Institutes, which furnished 
educational advantages to adults. These institutions, although they 
received some help from wealthy Whigs and from a few Benthamites, 
were self-supporting. Each possessed a reading room where lectures 
were given and discussion groups organized. By 1823 there were 
enough of these institutes in Britain to make it possible to publish 
a Mechanics' Magazine . Their work was furthered, after 1827, by 
the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge, which furnished 
the institutes with a large number of books and pamphlets at a 
low cost. The Mechanics’ Institute idea was copied in the United 
States and in a few industrial centers of France, though the most 
interesting of the French adaptations of British adult educational 
schemes was the Athenee in Paris. In its reading rooms lectures 
were given by nearly all the important liberal thinkers of the Res- 
toration, so it became a force in the formation of liberal public 
opinion. Its clientele, , however, came from a higher social stratum 
than that represented in the Mechanics’ Institutes. 26 

Finally, it should always be borne in mind that, on the idealistic 
side, many liberals accepted the doctrine of Locke and Rousseau, 
that men are made by their environment and that a change of the 
educational system is one of the surest ways of effecting a change 
' in society. This ideal in education was most clearly set forth by 
Pestalozzl in Switzerland. He had begun his educational work in 
I 799 hy opening a school for pauper children of his neighborhood. 

20 Cx. Dejob. “L’ Athenee,” Revue Internationale dc V enseigncmcnt, 1889 



Here he gradually developed Rousseau’s educational ideas into a 
workable program. Emphasis was laid on developing the individual 
capacities of each child, and on trying to arouse the child’s interest 
by utilizing the objects and the activities immediately about him as 
the basis of learning. His writings, especially How Gertrude Teaches 
her Children (1801), were read all over Europe. Students from every 
European state visited his school. Frobel spent two years there, and 
Bell, Fichte, Frederick William III of Prussia, Mme. de Stael, 
Brougham, and Robert Owen were among his visitors. Owen’s 
famous school at New Lanark was largely a Pestalozzian enterprise, 
and the same methods were introduced into the primary schools of 
Prussia, a country which had the oldest public-school system in 
Europe. To Pestalozzi, more than to any educational reformer, is 
due the whole movement that led to the foundation of the modem, 
free, secular, and vernacular school. This type of school was soon 
to become one of the chief organs for the propagation of nationalist 


The French Revolution had awakened among many of the Euro- 
pean peoples a new sense of national solidarity and a new hope for 
a better national future. This spirit, aroused first in France, had spread 
into central Europe and in the end had become one of the forces that 
helped to overthrow Napoleon. Yet, after 1815, many national 
groups in Europe found themselves living under governments which 
they disliked. Two of the greatest historic peoples, the Germans 
and the Italians, possessed no political unity, and were only begin- 
ning to be conscious of a common culture. Other groups, which 
had once been independent, had for centuries been under foreign 
rule. In the Italian and German states, in Greece, and to some ex- 
tent in Hungary and Poland, nationalist ideas were part and parcel 
of a constitutional program. With the Irish, nationalism was pri- 
marily an economic and religious matter, while among the Czechs 
and southern Slavs the ideal of a national cultural rebirth was the 
sole basis for attacking the established regime. Among all these 
oppressed peoples the lesser nobility or the lower clergy, or both, 



took the leadership in opposing the government. In its earlier stages' 
the growth of nationalism was not so clearly a part of a bourgeois 
program as was constitutionalism. 

Underlying the growth of nationalist ideals in the early nineteenth 
century was the romantic movement, which turned the attention of 
literary men and scholars to the study of the folk-ways, the folk- 
art and music, and the folk-legends of the Middle Ages. For several 
generations a great deal of writing and research was devoted to re- 
viving the interest of some national group or other in the old and 
indigenous civilization which, during the seventeenth and eighteenth 
centuries, had lain buried beneath the cosmopolitan, neo-classical,, 
and Frenchified culture of the upper classes. 

It was Herder who gave these ideas and attitudes their clearest 
statement and much of their theoretical justification. He believed 
that the nation was the indispensable basis of any sound social 
order. It was a creation of God, and its development was a part of 
, a divine plan in history. Humanity would never realize its highest 
, possibilities until every national group had come to self-realization 
and to the control of its own destinies. In each national organism, 
he argued, there is inherent a creative power, a national soul, which 
is the source of its culture. This soul expresses itself in history, lan- 
guage, literature, religion, law, and art. As Mazzini, one of Herder’s 
greatest disciples, wrote in 1834, “Every people has its special mission, 
which will cooperate towards the fulfilment of the general mission 
of humanity. That mission constitutes its nationality . Nationality is 
sacred.” 27 

Herder insisted on the necessity of studying and using the na- 
tional language. “Has a people,” he wrote, “something more precious 
than the language of its fathers ? In it resides the whole intellectual 
X wealth of tradition and religion. To take away the language of 
a people means to take away its only immortal property.” 28 The 
national language must be studied in the schools, and it must be 
used in the government, in the church, and in all literature. Herder 
was not a political theorist nor was he greatly interested in practical 
politics. His nationalism was almost entirely of a cultural sort, and 

27 Life and Writings of Mazzini (London, i&gi), HI, 33. 

28 Herder, Sdmmtliche Werke (Berlin, 1877-1913), XVIII, 384. 



was always combined with a cosmopolitan humamtarianism. He was 
opposed to the forcible imposition of the culture of one people on 
another, and regarded national pride as “the most harmful disease 
in history.” If each nationality would put its own house in order, 
humanity would then come to its fullest development, international 
peace would ensue, and progress would proceed apace. To the Ger- 
mans he said, let us be good Germans, not because we are superior 
to ail other nationalities, but because the unique contribution we 
can make to humanity is that of being peculiarly and specifically 
ourselves. 29 

In the next generation, the War of Liberation made his ideas 
popular in Germany. Gorres, Fichte, Schleiermacher, the Grimms, 
the Schlegels, and above all Hegel took them over, frequently 
giving to them a narrow and local emphasis that Herder had not 
intended. A whole generation became conscious of its cultural ties 
and embraced the idea that the Germans not only had a great past, 
but had a still more glorious future. Fichte, in his Reden an die 
deutsche Nation (1807-8), envisaged the German spirit as an “eagle, 
whose mighty body, rising on strong wings, thrusts itself on high 
and soars into the empyrean, that it may raise itself nearer the 
sun whereon it delights to gaze.” 30 He assured his hearers that the 
Germans were the only people of Europe that had preserved its 
nationality unadulterated; the only people that possessed a truly na- 
tional language and literature; the only race worthy of the name. 
They were the people, the Urvol\. If they were lost, all w^ould be 
lost. 31 In these stirring addresses, Fichte made the first unconditional 
statement in Germany of the belief that a commonwealth of learn- 
ing, literature, and art is no substitute for a strong, free state, and 
that the political weakness of a nation threatens the very existence 
of its culture. Already a somewhat more exclusive and selfish na- 
tional interpretation was being given to Herder’s ideal. After 1800 
all the German romanticists contributed to the growth of this 
nationalist enthusiasm, as did also the teachers of history in the 

29 Cf. R. Ergang, Herder and the Foundations of German Nationalism (New York, 


30 Legge, op. cit , 83. Cf. Engelbrecht, op. cit., pp. 9, 128-32, 159. 

31 The nationalist ardor of the War of Liberation is vividly set forth in Kleist's 
Catechism in K. Francke, History of German Literature (Boston, 1901), 480-481. 


schools and universities. No movement since the Reformation so 
swept the German world as did this sentimental nationalism. 32 

Bentham was another important theorist of the cultural national- 
ism that characterized the period. He shared many of Herder’s 
ideas, though he combined them with the ideals of laissez-faire 
economics and political constitutionalism. He believed that nation- 
ality-— a common cultural tradition and purpose— was the proper 
basis for state and government, and, like Herder, he was opposed 
to the domination of one nationality by another. He urged his own 
government and that of France to give up their colonies because 
they were unprofitable and because the colonists were not English- 
men or Frenchmen. He had protested earlier against the partition 
of Poland and had criticized the governments of the partitioning 
powers. Devoted to England, he was, nevertheless, generous in 
his praise of the United States, and he accepted honorary citizenship 
in France. He himself coined a word which expresses his point of 
view, the word international . 

The nationalist ideas of Bentham and of Herder — especially those 
of Herder— spread across Europe in the early nineteenth century. 
Qumet published in 1827 a French translation of Herder’s most 
influential work, Ideen znr Philosophic der Geschichte der Mensch- 
heit (1784-1791). 33 It found a ready response in Restoration France 
where the nation, proud of the position it had had during the revo- 
lution, was now disgusted with the timid foreign policy of the 
Bourbons. Quinet’s translation became the chief influence in the 
formation of the ideas of Michelet, the most influential French 
historical writer of the nineteenth century. Like Fichte, Michelet 
used Herder’s ideas to justify a proud and intolerant sense of racial 
superiority. Another reader of Quinet’s translation, and one who 
remained much closer to Herder’s ideals, was Mazzini, the founder 
of Young Italy . Similar ideas were developing, often independently 
of Herder, all over central Europe. Before Mazzini began to write, 

32 On the general development of nationalism see especially C. J H Hayes, The 
Historical Evolution of Modern Nationalism, (New York, 1931), G. F Preass, Die 
Quellcn des Natwnalgeistcs der Bcfrciungskn'ege (Berlin, 1914), A D. Verschoor, Die 
altcre dcutschc Romantik und die N anorak dee (Amsterdam, 192S) ; the classic work of 
Meinecke, Wehburgcrtum und N ationalstaat (7th edition, Munich, 1928), and H C. 
Engelbrecht, Fichte, a Study of His Political Writings (New York, 1933)! 

33 Ct O. Wenderoth, “Der junge Qumet und seme Uebersetzung von Herders ‘Ideen,’ ” 
Romamsche Forsch ungen, XXII (looRt 



a number of Italian literary men, Alfieri, Foscolo, Pellico, Giordani, 
Niccolmi, and Leopardi had urged the development of an Italian 
culture that would bring together the intellectual classes of the 
whole peninsula. Leopardi wrote in 1819, “Italy has nothing to hope 
for unless she has books read and understood from one end to the 
other of the country. The recent example of other nations shows us 
clearly all that can be done, in our century, by truly national books, 
to arouse the sleeping spirit of a nation.” 34 

These ideas, however, were most active among the Slavs. Herder’s 
influence was very great, though nationalist movements were already 
under way before his time. In his collection of folk-songs. Die Sti ru- 
men der Voider in Liedern (1778-79), Herder had included a num- 
ber of Slavic songs, and in many of his writings he had praised 
the Slavs and had predicted a great future for them. Especially 
had he urged the Slavic peoples to cherish their native languages, 
literatures, and customs. These Slavic peoples under Austrian and 
Ottoman rule had almost forgotten their history and their folk- 
literature. Their languages had been greatly corrupted. The upper 
classes had ceased to speak them, and few books were written in 
them. The clergy were frequently hostile to the native culture. The 
Jesuits in Bohemia, and the Greek clergy among the Serbs, Ruma- 
nians, and Bulgarians had, during the seventeenth and eighteenth 
centuries, burned quantities of books in the native languages. 

In spite of this, Slavic philologists, historians, and men of letters 
began in the later eighteenth century the work of resurrecting the 
past. They made collections of folk-legends, poems, and chronicles, 
wrote grammars, and compiled dictionaries. By 1815, Herder’s ideas 
having furnished a definite program and inspiration, there were, 
from one end of Slavic Europe to the other, scholars and poets who 
were organizing nationalist movements. They not only wrote books, 
but they worked to establish newspapers and schools that used the 
native languages. Kopitar and Karadzic among the Croats, Serbs, 
and Slovenes; Sofroni and Venelin among the Bulgarians; Dob- 
rovsky, Jungmann, Kollar, Safarik, and Palacky among the Czechs 
and Slovaks; Szechenyi and Kossuth among the Magyars; Brod- 
zinski and Mickiewicz among the Poles; and finally Karamzin 

31 J. Luchaire, L’evohition intellcduelle de Vltalie dc 1815 a 1830 (Paris, 1906), 150. 



and a group o£ Slavophils in Russia, all shared a more or less com- 
mon set o£ cultural nationalist ideals. 

The Czech nationalists were in closest touch with Germany, many 
of them having studied m the German universities. One of them, 
Kollar, tried to bring all these isolated national forces into contact. 
In fact, the only essentially new idea in these Slavic movements 
was his doctrine of Pan-Slavism, although it was not clearly formu- 
lated until after 1830. Kollar lamented the fact that the Serbs knew 
nothing of the Czechs or the Poles, while these peoples regarded 
the Serbs and Bulgarians as Turks. Each national group was too 
much occupied with local problems to realize their common destiny. 
The Czechs were struggling against the Austrian Germans, the 
Slovaks and the Croats against the Magyars, the Poles against the 
Russians, and the Serbs and Bulgarians against the Hellenizing 
policy of the Greek Church as well as against the tyranny of the 
Ottoman government. These oppressed Slavic peoples differed also 
in religion. Some were Protestants, while others were Roman Catho- 
lics, and still others Greek Orthodox. There was, then, no unifying 
bond of religion or language among the Slavs, not even a common 
enemy. Kollar urged the establishment, throughout the Slavic world, 
of bookstores for the spread of Slavic ideas. He believed that all 
educated Slavs should learn the four principal Slavic languages, 
Czech, Polish, Serbian, and Russian. This would give the scattered 
nationalist groups hope, encouragement, and a sense of a common 
destiny, even though they would inevitably remain disunited polit- 
ically and religiously. Since his ideas were generally accepted only 
by his own people, Pan-Slavism remained largely a Czech nationalist 
movement. For several generations, this ideal of cultural nation- 
alism was the basis of the liberal faith and of liberal agitation 
throughout central Europe. It usually contained, however, an ad- 
mixture of the ideas of laissez-faire economics and of constitution- 
alism. 35 

Nationalism became during the nineteenth century one of the 

86 The oest account is that o£ A. Fischel, Dcr Panslaztnsmus bis sum Weltkneg (Berlin, 
1919); but see also H Oncken “Deutsche r'-ist-cre Einflus^e m dcr ev.ropaiscbcn National- 
bewegung des neunzeknten Jahrhjndens,” Deutsche Vicrtcljahrsc', rift fvi Literatur- 
zwssenschaft und Geistesgeschichte, VII (1929), 607-627; A. Skene, Entstehen und 
Entwicklung dcr Slawisch-nationalcn Bewegung in Bohtncn und Muhrcn im neunsehnten 
Jahrhundert (Vienna, 1S93); M Murko, Deutsche Etnflusse auf die Anfange der 
bohmischcn Romar.tik (Graz, 1897). Cf. also three excellent general works, R J. Kerner, 



deepest currents of political thought and action. Among the theorists 
only the ultramontanes and the socialists seem in any important de- 
gree to have escaped its influence, and in the latter part of the 
century even the socialists embraced some of its ideals. But the in- 
fluence of nationalist thought was, even in the period considered 
here, no monopoly of the liberals. Burke, Savigny, Haller, most of 
the literary romanticists, and the German Idealist Philosophers 
showed its influence, and, though they deprecated the use of nation- 
alist propaganda by the forces opposed to the throne and the altar, 
they often found it a useful support to their own doctrines. 

ed., Czechoslovakia (Berkeley, 1940), S. H. Thomson, Czechoslovakia in Ev/opcan His- 
tory (Prmceton, 1943), and R. W. Seton-Watson, A Hisioiy of the Czechs and Slovaks 
(London, 1943)* 

Chapter Vive 



Whatever may have been the theories of government current at 
the time, the practical control of the political world in 1814 and 
1815 was in the hands of the monarchs and their advisers, espe- 
cially those of England, Austria, Russia, and Prussia. But the sud- 
den collapse of the Napoleonic empire in 1814 found these allied 
powers with only partially-laid plans for the reconstruction of 
Europe. All efforts had so long been turned to fighting “the Usurper” 
that almost no attention had been given to the questions that would 
arise after his overthrow. The confusion of aims would have been 
even greater had not Castlereagh, the British foreign minister, 
succeeded in drawing together the four great powers in the Treaty 
of Chaumont (March, 1814). This treaty restated certain decisions 
already arrived at — the establishment of a confederated Germany, 
the division of Italy into independent states, the restoration of Spain 
to the Bourbons, the independence of Switzerland, and the enlarge- 
ment of Holland— and provided further that the alliance now 
formed should continue for twenty years after the war had ceased, 
and that the powers should make a final settlement in a future peace 
congress. Besides uniting the great powers— England, Austria, Rus- 
sia, and Prussia— for the final struggle with Napoleon and laying 
down some of the bases of a final peace, the Treaty of Chaumont 
became the corner stone of the European Alliance which was to 
determine the balance of power for several decades. 

The genera! provisions of the Treaty of Chaumont were con- 
firmed in the first Treaty of Paris in May, 1814, by which the four 
great powers, together with Spain, Portugal, and Sweden, made a 
formal peace with France, and restored, with slight modifications, 
the French frontiers of 1792. Finally, the powers arranged for the 
holding of a congress in Vienna to round out a general peace set- 




dement. 1 Before the meeting of this congress the only points on 
which the four principal allied powers agreed were that they them- 
selves should settle all important matters, that neither France nor 
the smaller states should do more than to acquiesce in their final 
decisions, and that the congress itself should only give a formal 
ratification to agreements previously made. The treaty carefully 
avoided the thorny subject of the final disposition of Saxony and 
Poland. At the time no one seems to have realized how deep were 
the differences among these allies, and through what a series of 
bickerings, recriminations, and threats the negotiations were to 
proceed. During the summer of 1814 conferences among the allied 
statesmen were held in Paris and London, but little progress 
was made. 

v The gathering in Vienna in the autumn of 1814 brought together 
six monarchs, the Emperors of Austria and of Russia, the Kings of 
Prussia, Bavaria, Wurttemberg, and Denmark, and representatives 
from all the minor states of Europe, together with a host of mis- 
cellaneous hangers-on and fortune-seekers. 2 The real work of the 
Congress was done by Castlereagh (whose place was taken in Feb- 
ruary, 1815, by the Duke of Wellington), Metternich, Alexander I, 
and Hardenberg, and to a less extent by Talleyrand after he had 
wormed his way into the councils of the others. Metternich had the 
constant aid of his secretary, Gcntz, while Hardenberg usually acted 
for Frederick William III. Alexander preferred to keep matters in 
his own hands, though he constantly received advice from his large 
staff, from Stein on German affairs, from Czartoryski on those of 
Poland, from Capodistrias on the Balkans, and on many other mat- 
ters from the Corsican, Pozzo di Borgo, from the German Nessel- 
rode, and his old tutor, the Swiss Laharpe.^ 

Some important decisions were formulated in committees ap- 
pointed from time to time for some special investigation, such as 

1 This congress was not, strictly speaking, to be a peace congress, because peace had 
alieady been made by the first Treaty of Paris, in which the issues between France and 
the Allies had been settled The state of war had ceased both m fact and m law, and 
Fiance could now cla A m repre c entation vith the other powers as a regular member of the 
European stated-system Heiem the situation differed from that of 1919. 

3 No appreciable difference w ould have been made in the final settlement if a large 
majority of these representatives had failed to appear They gave the congress a 
picturesque setting and they seem to have enjoyed greatly the endless round of balls 
and entertainments furnished by the almost bankrupt Austrian government and by the 


1 12 

those on Switzerland, Italy, the slave trade, the German Confedera- 
tion, diplomatic precedence, international rivers, and statistics of 
population. The ministers of the great powers met nearly every 
morning for an informal conference in Mettermch's apartments. 
From time to time the three sovereigns of Austria, Russia, and Prus- 
sia met to review the matters that had been previously discussed by 
their ministers. Besides these meetings, innumerable private con- 
ferences were going on at all hours. The representatives of the 
smaller states were consulted only at such times and on such terms 
as suited the representatives of the great powers. The Austrian 
government maintained an elaborate spy system. Letters were 
opened, wastebaskets were searched by servants in the government’s 
pay, and people in all ranks of society were used to collect bits of 
information. Some of the other governments maintained secret agents 
in Vienna. The net result of all this spying is hard to estimate, 
though its final influence seems to have been slight . 3 
* If any statesman took the leading role in the negotiations, it was 
Castiereagh. He usually provided the plan of action and then 
calmly set about procuring its acceptance. His consistent aim was, 
as he said later, “not to collect trophies, but to bring back the world 
to peaceful habits.” He represented a government that, for economic 
reasons, was anxious to have Europe return to peaceful conditions 
as soon as possible. England was then, as she was after the World 
War, more heavily burdened with debts than any other state, her 
public finance was in disorder, her warehouses were bursting with 
manufactured goods waiting for the reopening of continental mar- 
kets, and her people were suffering from great economic distress. 

* As soon as the diplomats had gathered at Vienna, a lively discus- 
sion arose as to how the congress should be organized. Metternich 
insisted that the representatives of the four great powers should 
keep all matters in their own hands as originally arranged. Talley- 
rand, with the backing of Spain, Bavaria, and some of the German 
states, at once began an intrigue to prevent this. But the result of 
months of negotiation on this question of organization resulted in 
the failure ever to constitute a congress, for Talleyrand dropped 
the matter as soon as he found he could gain more by direct nego- 

-f Ct °V he C008r 2 ? 15 interestingly exposed in A. Fournier, Die GehcimpJhzei 
aetn Wtener Congress (Vienna, 1913) 

THE FIRST YEARS OF PEACE 1815-1820 ji 3 

tialion with the representatives of the great powers. So the important 
decisions were all made by the four great powers, to which group 
Talleyrand was admitted in January, 1815. The attention of the 
whole of Europe was, in the meantime, focused on Vienna. Every 
group and every interest from Spain to Russia thought it saw open- 
ing before it the opportunity to realize its hopes. Liberals and na- 
tionalists, political and religious reactionaries, and all the rulers 
from the pope to the most petty German princeling, seem to have 
deluded themselves into believing that the congress would recon- 
struct society according to their hearts’ desires. 4 

Certain matters had been decided by earlier treaties; others were 
still to be settled — above all, the final disposition of Saxony and 
Poland. The long negotiations over this knotty problem nearly 
brought the powers to war. Alexander kept his troops in Poland 
because, in spite of earlier promises, he was determined to hold the 
country and to carry through his program of reconstituting old 
Poland as a Russian dependency. In this plan he had secured the 
backing of the King of Prussia, who had agreed to relinquish the 
Prussian part of Poland if Alexander would work for the annexa- 
tion of Saxony to Prussia. Both Metternich and Castlereagh opposed 
the plan, principally because they felt that the aggrandizement 
of Russia and the advance of the Muscovite frontier to die west 
would upset the balance of power in Europe. International adjust- 
ments could best be guaranteed by strengthening the central part 
of the continent against France on the one hand and against Rus- 
sia on the other. Here, finally, the intervention of Talleyrand and 
the mediation of Castlereagh, who continued his efforts to keep 
peace among the peacemakers, was to bring a compromise. In Janu- 
ary, 1815, Castlereagh, Talleyrand, and Metternich signed a secret 
treaty of alliance which bound their governments to furnish con- 
tingents for a common army in the case of a Russian or a Prussian 
attack. This new alignment forced both Russia and Prussia to with- 
draw from their former positions. The diplomats then proceeded 
to strike a balance. Prussia got about two-fifths of Saxony, and Rus- 

* On the diplomacy of the years 1809-1815 and on the Vienna Congress, cf C S B. 
Butkiand, Metternich and the British Government, 1809-1813 (London, 1932), C. K, 
Webster, The Foreign Policy of Castlereagh, 1812-1815 (London, 1931), and the first 
volume of H. von Srbik, Metternich (Munich, 1925). 



sia was allowed to reconstitute part of the old Polish state as the 
new Kingdom of Poland. 

The rest of the agreements took several months of further negotia- 
tions. On the ninth of June, a Final Act, a kind of codification of 
the work of the congress, was signed by nearly all the powers both 
great and small. Holland received the Austrian Netherlands and 
Luxemburg; Genoa and part of Savoy went to the Kingdom of 
Sardinia, and Prussia was given lands along the lower Rhine — all 
with the idea of erecting a series of strong bulwarks which would 
.prevent an attack by France on the peace of Europe. This estab- 
lishment of Prussia on the Rhine, which ultimately made her the 
national champion of Germany against France, proved to be the 
most important territorial change made by the congress. In Ger- 
many Prussia received Swedish Pomerania in addition to part of 
Westphalia, two-fifths of Saxony, and territories in the Rhineland; 
Hanover was enlarged, and the other states were carved up to suit 
the wishes of Austria and Prussia. A loose German Confederation 
of thirty-nine states, the Dentscher Bimd , was created under the 
presidency of Austria. In Italy, besides the enlargement of the King- 
dom of Sardinia, the Bourbons were restored to Naples, though 
only after the congress broke up, just as shortly before they had been 
restored to France and Spain. The Papal States were returned to 
the pope; Lombardy and Venetia went to Austria to compensate 
her for the loss of the former Austrian Netherlands, which she did 
not want anyway; and in northern and central Italy three small 
duchies, Tuscany, Parma, and Modena, were placed under Austrian 
princes. Thus, in both Germany and Italy Austria held the domi- 
nant influence. Switzerland was guaranteed her independence and 
neutrality,* an arrangement which proved the most durable achieve- 
ment of the congress. Norway was taken from Denmark and joined 
to Sweden, which in turn gave Finland to Russia. By the terms of 
the first Treaty of Paris England received Cape Colony, Heligoland, 
Malta, Ceylon, Mauritius, and islands in the West Indies. Later 
she received a protectorate over the Ionian Islands. At Vienna she 
secured from the powers agreements for opening certain rivers to 
navigation and for abolishing the slave trade; termination of the 
traffic in slaves was an uncompromising demand of the British 



Evangelicals and Non-conformist groups who, through their fanat- 
ical zeal and their insistence that most of the peace negotiations be 
subordinated to this reform, not only greatly endangered the accept- 
ance of their own program but seriously interfered with Castie- 
reagh’s efforts at Vienna.'* 

Such was the most important international settlement between 
that of 1648 at Westphalia and that of 1919 at Pans. It was the fash- 
ion of the liberal historians of the nineteenth century to denounce 
the decisions of the Congress of Vienna. 6 Since 1919, however, it 
has become clear that .the diplomats called together at the close of 
a general European war are so bound by earlier agreements and 
by the exigencies of the moment that they cannot build a New Jeru- 
salem. They are fortunate if they are able even to reconstruct an 
old order. In 1815 neither the statesmen nor the peoples of Europe 
had any thorough understanding of the vague principles of nation- 
ality and democracy. Moreover, there was, at the time of the Vienna 
Congress, a widespread distrust of these revolutionary ideas. It is as 
incredible that the statesmen of 1815 should have made them the 
basis of a reconstructed Europe as that. the delegates at the con- 
ference of 1919 should have revamped Europe in accordance with 
the precepts of communism. After the overthrow of Napoleon the 
diplomatists quite naturally resorted to the familiar ideas of the 
balance of power and to the notions of legitimacy, and tried to 
fuse them into some sort of compromise that would guarantee 
Europe a period of peace. Whatever may be said against them, they 
were, ’"most of them, reasonable, fair-minded, and well-intentioned. 
These qualities were most strikingly revealed in their treatment 

B Cf W. E Dubois, The Suppression of The African Slave-Trade fo the United 
States (Cambridge, 1896), and R. Coupland, The British Anti-Slavery Movement (Lon- 
don, 1933). 

0 In this they were preceded by Gentz who, at the time , said, “The Congress has 
resulted m nothing but restorations which had already been effected by arms agree- 
ments between the great powers of little value for the piese^vat ion of the peace of 
Europe, quite arbitrary alterations in the possessions of the smaller states , but no act of 
a higher nature, no great measure for pubhc erder or the general good which might 
compensate humanity for its long suffering 01 pacify it for the future ” Khnkowsirom, 
Ocsterrcichs Theilnahme an den B cfrciungsknegcn (Vienna, 1887), 540 Characteristic 
of the liberal point of view of the middle of the nineteenth century is Cavour’s statement, 
“Resting on no principle, neither that of legitimacy, nor of national interests, nor of 
popular will, taking account neither of geographical conditions, nor of general interests, 
this august assembly, acting only by right of the strongest, erected a political edifice 
without any moral foundation ” Revue nouvellc , May 1, 1846 Compaie this with the \iew 
of a textbook written originally before the World Wai : C. D Ilazcn, Europe since 1813 
(New York, 1923), I, 8-9 


o£ France and in the general absence of rancor in their decisions. 
Patriotic Frenchmen sometimes claim that it was as hard for France 
to lose territories like Belgium, which had been occupied for twenty- 
years, as it was for Germany to give up large slices of territory 
in 1919, but the disinterested outsider can hardly accept the com- 
parison. The fact is that reasonable Frenchmen were generally 
satisfied with the first Treaty of Paris, and that even after the 
imposition of the harsher terms of the second treaty Europe enjoyed 
nearly a half-century of peace on the basis of the Vienna settlements. 

While the Congress was still in session, Napoleon had escaped 
from Elba, and on March 1, 1815, had landed on the south coast 
of France. Without firing a shot or shedding a drop of blood, he 
had marched northward, and within twenty days had reestablished 
himself on the French throne. He began at once to negotiate with 
the allied powers but they would have nothing to do with him. The 
plenipotentiaries of England, Russia, Prussia, Austria, and some 
of the smaller powers proclaimed him an outlaw and pledged them- 
selves “not to lay down their arms until Napoleon is rendered wholly 
incapable of again disturbing the peace.” The allied armies were 
hastily reassembled. Early in June, 1815, Napoleon pushed north 
into Belgium to defeat the English army under Wellington before 
Blucher and the Prussians arrived. Though at first successful at 
Ligny on June 16, 1815, his plan failed and he was overwhelmed 
two days later at Waterloo. Driven back to Paris, he abdicated on 
June 22, fled to the coast, and delivered himself into the hands of 
the English. 

The entrance of the allied forces into Pans brought the plenipo- 
tentiaries together again. After prolonged and often embittered ne- 
gotiations, they signed, on the twentieth of November, the second 
Treaty of Paris. France was obliged to restore most of the works 
of art taken by Napoleon, to agree to pay a heavy indemnity, and 
to support an allied army of occupation until it had been paid. 
Her boundaries were reduced to the limits of 1790, and it was due 
only to the moderating counsels of Castlereagh, Wellington, and 
Alexander that she was not compelled to cede Alsace-Lorraine and 
lands along the northern frontier. On the same day another agree- 
ment was signed by th e four g reat powers which bound them in a 


Quadruple Alliance to maintain by armed force the arrangements 
of Chaumo’rit, Vienna, and Paris for twenty years, both in regard 
to the territorial boundaries and to the exclusion of Bonaparte and 
his dynasty from the throne of France. An attempt of Alexander 
to embody in this treaty a provision that would oblige the signa- 
tories to intervene in France to maintain Louis XVIII and the 
Charter of 1814 was rejected by Castlereagh.JHis contention, which 
remained fundamental in his point of view until his death in 1822, 
was that England could noi: guarantee any more than the general 
settlement of boundaries. She would not intervene in the internal 
affairs of any state except in one case — the possibility of a Bonaparte 
returning to powder in France. The treaty called also for periodic 
meetings of representatives of the four powers, “for the purpose 
of consulting upon their common interest and for the consideration 
of the measures most salutary for the maintenance of the peace of 
Europe.” The ascendancy of the great powers in general European 
affairs was herein for the first time clearly set forth, and along with 
this the principle of a European concert and the idea of diplomacy 
by congresses and conferences. 

Two months before this Tsar Alexander had presented the vari- 
ous European monarchs with a draft of the Holy Alliance. 7 This 
curious document, in which Baader and Kriidener had a hand, 
stated that the rulers of Europe would in future regulate their acts 
in both domestic and foreign affairs^ according to the benign prin- 
ciples "arid precepts of the Christian religion. Castjereagh referred 
to the document as a “piece of sublime mysticism and nonsense,” 
and most of the other statesmen" were equally contemptuous. It is 
only fair to say, however, that the so-called Holy Alliance was for 
Alexander only a makeshift, a mere fragment of a much larger 
scheme for the reconstruction of Europe in accordance with ad- 
vanced principles. The tsar had made an effort to gain a hearing 
for his plans at Vienna, but the practically-minded statesmen of the 
powers regarded him as either a dangerous Jacobin or a clever 
schemer with ulterior motives. So Alexander never got beyond 
the acceptance of the preface of his program. The Holy Alliance 
in itself was a perfectly innocuous if somewhat pompous document. 

7 Cf . H. Schraeder Die dritte Koalition und die Heitige Allianz (Komgsberg, 1934). 


It was signed by all the monarchs of Europe with the exception of 
the regent in England (who, however, sent an approving letter), 
the Ottoman sultan, and the pope. The sultan was not asked to 
sign, while Pius VII replied to the invitation with the tart remark 
that “from time immemorial the papacy had been in possession of 
Christian truth and needed no new interpretation of it.” s 

The Alliance had no direct influence on affairs, for “charity” and 
“love” are notjcapable of being stated In diplomatic terms. The 
powers of the Quadruple Alliance pursued a conservative and repres- 
sive policy in the years following the peace, so that the contrast 
between high-sounding principles and actual practice quite natu- 
rally produced in the minds of the peoples of Europe the suspicion 
that their rulers were hypocritically leagued against them. In the 
popular mind, the Holy Alliance remained for a half-century con- 
fused with the Quadruple Alliance. 

The representatives of the powers, having sent Napoleon to St. 
Helena, having redrawn the map of Europe, and having provided 
the machinery for perpetuating their territorial settlement, returned 
to their own capitals to occupy themselves with the domestic 


In the overthrow of Napoleon the British navy and British sub- 
sidies had played a major role, but the celebrations over Waterloo 
had hardly passed before It became evident that victory in a modern 
war is little more profitable than defeat. The high prices obtained 
for foodstuffs during the wars suddenly collapsed and the English 
countryside, which not so long before had been famed as the land 
of roast beef and plum pudding, was now peopled by wretches — as 
Cobbett describes them-— “in ragged smock-frocks with unshaven 
faces, with a shirt not washed for a month and with their toes 
peeping out of their shoes.” The misery of the agricultural classes 
was increased by the bad harvests of 1815 and 1816. Within a few 
years half the population in many parishes was on the poor-rates. 
In the factory towns thousands were thrown out of work, and even 
for the employers, with markets fluctuating and uncertain, the strug- 

a E F Henderson, Short History of Germany (New York, 1917), II, 326. 


gle for survival was desperate. Banks and commercial companies 
went to the wall by the hundreds. At the same time taxes were 
very heavy because the state was burdened by a larger debt than ever 
before incurred by any nation. As a result of this maladjustment 
thousands in the towns and on the land were on the verge of utter 
destitution and the whole country was filled with discontent. 

Unusual statesmanship was needed to meet these difficulties, but 
the government was directed by men who, though they had carried 
the country to final victory in the long struggle with France, had 
nothing in their training which fitted them to handle the widespread 
distress and discontent. In their view the successful conclusion of 
the wars had invested the whole existing social and political system 
with a halo of sanctity. They looked upon those who advocated any 
measure of reform as dangerous firebrands. In contrast with the 
governments of most of the continental states, that of England was 
without an adequate police force. The ministers, falling into clumsy 
methods of military repression, depended for information not on 
competent detectives but on the tales of private spies and on agents 
provocateurs. The larger towns were, for the most part, still dom- 
inated by little oligarchies, seldom public-spirited and often corrupt, 
while the country districts, and those that were country one year 
and town the next, were under the rule of squires whose idea of 
governing was merely to enforce the old laws in the old ways. 

Like the civil administration, Parliament was in the hands of a 
closed caste which was at the time directed by the Tory party. The 
long danger of French invasion had enlisted on its behalf all the 
patriotic sentiment exploited by the Whigs in the days of Louis XV. 
George III had strengthened this Tory reaction by a policy of grant- 
ing large numbers of peerages. As a result, the official Whig leaders 
had gone politically to sleep in their country seats, and their party 
had almost ceased to exist. After 1815 it suffered not only from 
numerical weakness, but also from internal disunion. The Grenvillite 
group seceded in 1818 and in 1822 joined the opposition. The few 
outspoken radicals in the party, like Admiral Cochrane and Sir 
Francis Burdett, indulged in such extravagant language that they 
only dragged the whole party into further disrepute. But for the 



energy of one Whig member, Henry Brougham, the opposition in 
Parliament would, for a time, almost have disappeared. 9 The Whigs, 
however, even if they had been in power, might have shown as 
little understanding of conditions as did the Tories, for in the unre- 
formed Parliament, where both parties represented only the upper 
classes, neither side showed any fundamental disagreement with, or 
even any great dislike for, the other. Knowing that some day the 
turn of the political wheel would put them into office the “outs” 
usually guarded themselves in their attacks on abuses which sooner 
or later might benefit them. Until 1822 the most conservative wing 
of the Tory party dominated Parliament. The leading figures in the 
Cabinet, Liverpool, the prime minister, Castlereagh, the secretary 
for foreign affairs, and Eldon, the lord chancellor, had no program 
after 1815 except that of repressing all, internal dissent. At the same 
time they implored the country to enjoy “the blessings of peace and 
order.” This Tory domination was made possible not only by the 
success of the party in concluding the wars, but also by the great 
wave of popular discontent which swept through the lower classes 
of the nation and frightened the aristocracy and the bourgeoisie into 
accepting this policy of repression. 10 

As neither the Tories nor the Whigs showed any understanding 
of the social misery that was growing in the land, the agitation for 
reform fell into the hands of groups of radicals outside Parliament. 
These radicals had no common organization or program, though 
nearly all of them shared the idea that the road to improvement lay 
through a reform of Parliament. Before 1820 neither Bentham nor 
Owen, who had little interest m political reform, had found much 
of a following. Far more influential were individuals like Cobbett 
and groups like the Hampden Clubs. These organizations had been 
founded by Major Cartwright before the end of the wars. Their 
membership, though small, was widely distributed through the 
larger towns. Their program centered chiefly on the need of reform- 
ing the House of Commons where, as Cartwright had said, one 
found nothing but idle schoolboys, insignificant coxcombs, toad* 

* Cf. A. Aspinall, Lord Brougham and the Whig Party (Manchester, 1927). 

10 Cf. F. J, C. Hearnshaw, Conservatism i» England (London, 1933). 



eaters, gamblers, public plunderers and hirelings.” 11 After 1816 the 
dues of these societies were reduced to one penny a week, and their 
program was broadened by the inclusion of a demand for universal 
manhood suffrage. The local organizers of these radical groups, 
which resembled the secret liberal societies in many continental 
countries, borrowed the tactics used by the Methodists. There was 
the same plan of local organization with trifling dues, the same 
open-air meetings conducted in a highly emotional atmosphere, and 
a similar paid service of itinerant preachers. During the years 1816 
to 1819 most of the public gatherings that so outraged the authorities 
were organized by members of these societies. 

Even more influential in arousing public opinion were a number 
of free-lance reformers, first among whom stood Cobbett, the greatest 
of all English popular journalists. Cobbett’s close first-hand knowl- 
edge of actual conditions among all layers of the population and his 
deep sincerity gave point to his violent invective. In 1816 he began 
to get out an edition of his Political Register for two pence, and so 
fox. the first time in history put a newspaper within reach of the 
Ipwer classes. Farmer and mill-hand, in cottage and tenement, read 
in its columns of the unfairness of the law courts, of the game laws, 
and of the electoral system, of the abuses of taxation, and of the mil- 
lions of pounds poured out by the state to the holders of sinecures; 
the last-named abuses were the chief causes of popular discontent 
in the period. Cobbett advised his readers, however, to stop using 
violence and urged them to join the Hampden Clubs and to work 
peaceably for the reform of Parliament. Although his economics 
were often wild and his insight limited, of all the authors of the 
movement that finally aroused the Whigs to action and later brought 
about the Reform Bill of 1832, he was the most powerful. Henry 
Hunt and Thistlewood stand out beside him as the two best known 
agitators among the popular leaders of discontent. Hunt was a force- 
ful mob-orator; Thistlewood, the chief figure in the Cato Street Con- 
spiracy of 1820, was a violent demagogue. 

By 1816 the full force of unemployment and high prices began to 

11 John Cartwright, Legislative Rights of the Commonalty Vindicated (London, 1777 )* 
xii. Rentham’s friend. Place, said of the same regime that it was “a perpetual cheat, 
a fraudulent game of fictitious honors and real emoluments, a continual practice of 
pompous meanness/* J, H. Rose, The Rise and Growth of Democracy in England (New 
York, 1898), 41. 



be felt. An epidemic of violence and bread-rioting in the towns, of 
strikes m the mining districts, and of incendiarism in the country 
broke out all over England. The radicals tried to give this discontent 
a political program by holding public meetings. The indifference 
of the Tory ministry to the distress, combined with an unwillingness 
to differentiate between reasonable demands for parliamentary re- 
form and mere mob-violence, was first shown at the time of a series 
of outdoor assemblies held at Spa Fields, near London, m the autumn 
of 1816. In one of these meetings Hunt, in a fiery speech, denounced 
the system which taxed bread, beer, clothing, and the other common 
necessities of life and which used the proceeds to pension “the fathers, 
brothers, mothers, sisters, cousins, and bastards of the borough- 
mongers.” 12 Everything passed off peaceably, except for the looting 
of a few bakeshops in the evening. In December a second large 
meeting was addressed, before Hunt’s arrival, by Spence, one of the 
most violent of all the radical agitators. A small group of men, aftef 
hearing the speech, rushed off, seized a gunsmith’s shop, killed its 
proprietor, and paraded noisily through Cheapside. The outbreak 
was given wide publicity in the papers, and was used by the ministry 
to frighten the upper and middle classes. 

These meetings and an attempt on the regent's life led to the 
appointment of secret parliamentary committees m 1817 to examine, 
not the causes of discontent, but the activities of the reform 
societies. The committees in their alarmist reports alleged that a 
traitorous conspiracy was under way, that it was proposed to seize 
the Bank of England and the Tower of London, to arouse the army 
to mutiny, and to effect a general Jacobin revolution. The evidence 
had been furnished chiefly by a disreputable informer named Castle 
whom the government was using also as an agent provocateur. As 
a result of its investigation, Parliament forbade all public meetings, 
suppressed all societies not licensed by government officials, and 
suspended the Habeas Corpus Act (until March 1, 1818). The 
country was swept with an hysterical fear; one magistrate refused 
to sanction a mineralogical society on the pretext that the study of 
such a subject led to atheism. The courts tried a number of rioters 
and supposed conspirators and instituted suits against offending 

32 London Times, November 16, 1816. 



newspapers which, in some cases, resulted in heavy sentences and, 
in others, in dramatic acquittals. Public meetings ceased for a time 
and discontent was driven underground. Cobbett went to America, 
whence he began to write home of the glories of a republic with no 
established church or titles, no ‘long-sworded and whiskered cap- 
tains ... no hangings and rinpmgs up,” and 4t no Wilberforces, 
think o£ that! no Wilberforces 1 ” 13 
The newspapers and the periodical press, however, continued to 
present a grave problem to the ministry. Great periodicals, like the 
Whig Edinburgh Review, and most of the sixteen London dailies, 
as well as the principal provincial papers, had such large incomes 
from advertising that they were beyond being bought by the govern- 
ment. The Times, an independent paper, the Whig Morning 
Chronicle , and even the Tory Morning Post were given to plain 
speaking, though they always seemed pale in comparison with Cob- 
bett’s Political Register . The press remained the only effective outlet 
for criticism of the existing regime. 14 Many editors and newspaper 
owners were haled into court for jury trial, but the state’s case often 
failed because the prosecution labeled all criticism as treason. Since 
the penalty for treason was usually death, juries refused to convict 
During all the discussion of discontent great stress had been laid 
by the government on the irreligious character of the radical propa- 
ganda and in 1818 Parliament presented its solution of this problem 
by granting a million pounds to build more churches. 15 

The repressive legislation of 1817, combined with the improvement 
in trade conditions and an abundant harvest, brought a lull in the 
agitation for reform. Nevertheless the election of 1818 returned 
thirty more Whigs to Parliament. This indicated that the governing 
classes were by no means as unanimous in their support of repression 
as the ministry imagined. A moderate opposition was growing both 
within the Tory ranks and among the Whigs. It was still very timid 
and its chief efforts were directed not toward the delicate problem 

33 G. H. D. Cole, The Life of William Cobbett (New York, 1925), 226. 

14 The use of the steam, press after 1814 and of the cylinder press after 1827 greatly 
decreased the cost of publication. As the newspapers became big businesses, however, 
heavy investment in plant made them more cautious, and pamphlets and handbills did 
more than the press to bear the brunt of the fight against the government 

15 This action was attacked m Bentham’s Church of England Catechism Examined, in 
Byron's Manfred, Shelley’s Alastor and Revolt of Islam , and m the pages of Leigh Hunt s 



of parliamentary reform but toward such questions as the reform 
of public finance and of criminal law. This new opposition was re- 
sponsible for the passage of the first Factory Act in 1S19 and for 
the resumption of specie payments, the latter step being largely due 
to the efforts of the young Peel and of the economist, Ricardo. 

Another economic flurry in 1819 brought on a wave of unemploy- 
ment and a revival of radical agitation. The ministry still continued 
its old policy of carrying on from day to day, repressing all opposition 
outside Parliament and piously hoping for things to get better of 
themselves. The economic depression of 1819 proved to be far less 
severe than that of 1815-1817, but the political crisis became more 
acute. During a series of strikes among the cotton workers in 
northern England, which continued for several months, a number 
of agitators began to organize groups of the dissatisfied, and to hold 
public meetings. Their language was often violent but their program 
called only for repeal of the Corn Laws and reform of parliamentary 
representation. On these points the manufacturers and the workers 
were in agreement, though the millowners, fearing violence, still 
played into the hands of the Tory ministry. 

Some of the radical agitators formed a plan to hold mass meetings 
in the larger cities of the North and the Midlands at which unofficial 
representatives to Parliament were to be elected. An outdoor gather- 
ing, held at Birmingham in July, 1818, and attended by about 25,000, 
elected Sir Charles Wolseley “legislative attorney and representative” 
of the city. The government thereupon issued orders that no more 
such meetings should be held. But at Manchester the radicals had al- 
ready decided to follow the example of Birmingham, and a public 
meeting had been called for the sixteenth of August. A number of 
the men who were to take part in it underwent some preliminary 
drill, in order that they might move on to the field with military 
regularity. Banners with various inscriptions were prepared to 
decorate the processions. The authorities, however, had been vigilant; 
troops had been moved to Manchester and special constables had 
been enrolled. The entire country was in a ferment of expectation. 

On the appointed day about 60,000 men, women, and children had 
gathered in St. Peter’s Fields when Henry Hunt rode up in a 
carriage. He mounted the speaker’s stand; the vast multitude be- 


came silent. But he had hardly begun his address when a squadron 
of cavalry suddenly started to force its way toward the platform. 
The vast throng fell into a wild panic and began to rush away. In 
ten minutes the field was cleared; the ground was left strewn with 
the wounded, and with hats, shoes, walking sticks, and torn banners. 
Eleven people had been killed, and several hundred hurt. A howl 
of anger and disgust arose throughout the length and breadth of 
England. To make matters worse the regent and Lord Sidmouth, 
the home secretary, without waiting to make inquiries, sent their 
congratulations to the local authorities. For this victory of the govern- 
ment over their fellow citizens the radicals at once coined the name, 
the Battle of Peterloo. The memory of it long endured; as Carlyle 
said, “This is what the poor Manchester operatives, with all the 
darkness that was in them, did manage to perform. They put their 
huge, inarticulate question, 'What do you mean to do with us?’” 16 

In spite of protests from the Common Council of London and 
other highly placed bodies, the ministry was again able to play upon 
the fear of the upper classes. In November Parliament discussed and 
passed the Six Acts, the most repressive laws Great Britain had 
known for generations. In the long debates memories of the French 
Revolution cropped up repeatedly. Was the government, asked the 
ministers, to imitate the weakness of Louis XVI and his government 
and go along idly while the throne and the altar perished as they 
had in France? The Ultras in France and the reactionary statesmen 
in Germany, Spain, and Italy were all, at the time, using the same 
language. Of the Six Acts, the first forbade the practice of military 
exercises by unauthorized persons; the second provided for the 
speedy trial and drastic punishment of all offenders against public 
order; the third empowered the magistrates to issue warrants for 
the search of arms in private houses; the next authorized the seizure 
of seditious or blasphemous libels and the punishment of their 
authors; the fifth restricted public meetings to those called by govern- 
ment officials and prohibited all gatherings held to examine com- 
plaints against church and state; and the last subjected all publica- 
tions below a certain size to the heavy stamp duty already levied on 
newspapers. ' All, except the third and fifth, were designed to be 

30 T. Carlyle, Past and Present , chap III, Cf. F. O. Darvall, Popular Disturbances and 
Public Disorder % n Regency England (Oxford, 1934). 



permanent Wellington wrote o£ the Six Acts to Pozzo d I Borgo s 
November 25, 1819, “Our example will render some good in France 
as well as in Germany, and we must hope that the whole world will 
escape the universal revolution which seems to menace us all. ,,T7 

Lord Grey and Lord Holland denounced the Six Acts in Parlia- 
ment, the latter declaring that the laws already on the statute hooks 
were sufficient to prevent disorder, and that the new powers now 
given to the state were liable to serious abuse. Above all, he insisted 
that public meetings are “a vent, comparatively innocuous, of that 
discontent which if suppressed might seek refuge in conspiracies.” 
Gradually the opposition was being forced to take a stand. A Whig 
motion in the House of Commons calling for an inquiry into the 
Peterloo affair secured a hundred fifty votes. The majority, however, 
still backed the ministry. It was little wonder that by 1819 thousands 
of Englishmen were deeply convinced that the governing classes 
were in league against their welfare. 


If an old and established government like that of England found 
peace as beset with difficulties as war, it is little wonder that the new 
regime in France faced still more perplexing problems. Lack of 
experience in handling a parliamentary government and the ran- 
corous hatreds created by the revolution made continuity of policy 
nearly impossible. Indeed, the revolution had created such a funda- 
mental cleavage in French society that until 1870 it proved im- 
possible for any regime to maintain itself 1c nger than two decades. 
The Restoration in France was inevitably a* - age of extremes. Ultra- 
montanes and atheists, absolutists and di mocrats, men who had 
joined the camp of the emigres at Coblenz and men who had sat 
in the Convention met in the Chamben and in society. Many of 
them seemed more ready to begin the revolution all over again than 
to try to live in peace. 18 

The sudden collapse of the Empire in 1814 found both the French 
and the allies still undecided as to who should succeed Napoleon. 

17 Wellington, Dispatches, Correspondence and Memoranda (London, 1867), I, 87 

18 Cf. P de La Gorce, La Restauration , Louis XVIII (Paris, 1926), a good intro- 


A small Bourbon faction in France was making spasmodic attempts 
to communicate with allied headquarters where, however, decision 
was for a long time delayed because of conflicting views. In the 
meantime Bordeaux declared for the old ro\al family. Largely on 
the insistence of Casdcreagh and Talleyrand the allies finally agreed 
to accept the Comte de Provence as Louis XVIII. Soon, under the 
inspiration of the ever-ready Talleyrand, the Senate, the Municipal 
Council of Paris, and other official groups voted for the return of 
the Bourbons as the best guarantee of peace. In the midst of the 
general distress and discouragement in France, the allies sent 
Napoleon to Elba and Louis returned from England. 19 

At once everyone began to wonder what the new king would do. 
The French people showed little enthusiasm for these forgotten 
Bourbons, whose very names the press of the Empire had been for- 
bidden to mention. Before the new monarch arrived, his brother, 
the Comte d’ Artois, and a group of returning emigres were trying 
to get control of the situation. Fully realizing the danger of their 
counter-revolutionary designs and desiring to curb their ardor, as 
well as to satisfy the tsar, Louis XVIII issued a proclamation shortly 
after landing in France. In it he promised not to disturb anyone for 
his opinions, and agreed to grant a constitution. This charter, he 
promised, would assure the payment of the public debt, freedom of 
the press and of religion, equality before the law, and would guar- 
antee full property rights to those who had purchased national lands 
during the revolution. This Declaration de Samt-Ouen seems to 
have had a reassuring effect on everyone, except the circle of the 
Comte d’Artois. 

The new monarch entered Paris in May, 1814, and took up his 
residence at the Tuileries, where the servants busied themselves sew- 
ing the royal coat of arms on the carpets and chairs over the tops 
of the Napoleonic eagles. After a few days of deliberation the Con- 
stitutional Charter was drawn up by a committee of former ministers, 
senators, and deputies of the Empire. The document, which, accord- 
ing to the secretary, was thrown together like the text of a comic 
opera, embodied the promises made in the Declaration de Saint- 
Ouen. It guaranteed the land settlement of the revolution, and the 

10 Cf. E. J. Knapton, “Some Aspects of the Bourbon Restoration of 1814,” Journal 
9 i Modern History t 1934. 


continuance of Napoleon’s autocratic system of local administration, 
his codes, his Legion of Honor, and his educational system. For the 
central government it established a parliamentary order similar to 
that of England, a regime which, as time showed, fitted ill with 
the highly centralized and authoritarian administrative system of 
the empire. The monarch was to share the direction of the govern- 
ment with a Chamber of Peers nominated by himself, and with a 
Chamber of Deputies elected for five years on a very restricted 
franchise. The document was vague and contradictory on important 
points, above all on the matters of ministerial responsibility, control 
of the press, the method of holding elections, and the right of the 
king to issue ordinances. The preamble, quite in the spirit of the 
Ancien Regime, announced that the Charter was the monarch’s gift 
to France, while the document itself was dated “in the nineteenth 
year of our reign.” Only usage and experience could reveal what the 
Charter would mean. The mass of the population was apathetic to- 
ward these changes. The French, like the other peoples of Europe, 
seemed to be willing to accept anything that would assure a return 
of peace. 20 

During the first Restoration (1814-15) the only active and organized 
party in France was that of the ultra-royalists, commonly known as 
the Ultras, headed by the Comte d’ Artois. He established himself in 
the Pavilion de Marsan in the Tuileries, and his circle at once became 
a kind of invisible government. Artois prided himself on being sur- 
rounded by men who had never served any of the revolutionary 
governments and who, out of devotion to their monarch, had stayed 
out of France or had lived in seclusion for a quarter of a century. 
The Ultras wished to turn over the whole Napoleonic administrative 
machine to men of ardent royalist connections (the two Napoleonic 
institutions they approved of were the police and the prefects), to 
return to the emigres all property that had not been sold, to in- 
demnify the others, to subject the press to a severe censorship, and to 
abolish the Napoleonic Universite de France. 

In 1814 and 1815, Ultra agents went about the provinces securing 
support for their program from the municipal councils. The ex- 
aggerated statements made by these extremists and by some of the 

20 Cf. P. Simon, JJ elaboration de la charte (Paris, 1906). 



higher clergy, especially their extnnagant thieats that iV govern- 
ment might take back the clencal ami nobie Jan As .vjkl lining the 
revolution, aiousccl the peasants ;md h: ought .serious m^ck At on 
the new regime even before 11 was under wav. Other Ji-nmed acts 
on the part of the go\ eminent itself aggr,i\ <ited tlie MtuUiun. To 
save money the army was greatly t educed, and main Napoleonic 
officers were put on half-pay. These disgruntled soldiers were soon 
scattered all over France, sowing hatred against the Bourbons. In 
Pans the allied agents, the Duke of Wellington and Pozzo di 
Borgo, were meddling in French affairs. Lorns XVIII and the new 
order seemed nowhere to find friends. 

When Napoleon returned from Elba in March, 1815, he was 
accepted by the army as preferable to the Bourbons. In nearly every 
town, as he moved northward toward Paris, he was greeted with 
tales of the popular dread of a restoration of the Ancien Regime, 
and with bitter denunciations of the priests. Louis XVIII fled tc 
Lille and then to Ghent and Napoleon easily reestablished himself. 
But he soon discovered that he could not hope to remain in power 
unless his government were liberalized. He was under the ban so 
far as the allied powers were concerned and in France he faced 
the hatred of the clergy and of many of the nobility and the apathy 
and fear of the middle classes. He could only hope to hold his 
position by again rousing the old revolutionary ardor of the masses. 
Forced to act quickly he called in Benjamin Constant to prepare, in 
imitation of the Bourbon Charter, an “Additional Act to the Con- ' 
stitutions of the Empire.” The document, the sixth constitution 
France had known since 1789, provided for a responsible ministry, 
jury trial, and freedom of the press. This makeshift was presented 
to the French people through a plebiscite in which only a million 
and a half bothered to vote. France was evidently weary of con- 
stitutions, and uncertain, too, of the desirability of this latest regime. 
Napoleon’s destiny, however, did not depend on what the French 
thought of him for he was soon overwhelmingly defeated by the 
allied powers and forced to abdicate. 21 

Louis XVIII returned in July, 1815, to a situation of great com- 
plexity and uncertainty, but at once he showed his renewed de~ 

21 Cf H. Houssaye, 1815 (new ed.» 3 vols., Paris, 191a) and E. Le Gallo, Les cent 
jours (Paris, 1933). 



termination to maintain a regime that would “heal the wounds of 
the revolution” His enemies, especially the Bonapartists, made fun 
of this gouty old gentleman who had arrived “in the baggage of 
the allies.” But Louis proved to have unexpected judgment and 
courage. Rich in the patience acquired in weary years of exile, he 
showed a surprising willingness to make concessions and even to 
use men like Talleyrand and Fouche whom he personally despised. 
Yet despite all his efforts a White Terror broke out in the provinces. 
Because of the ease with which Napoleon had returned to power, 
the Ultras were able to convince many people that a great plot was 
on foot to overthrow the newly established government. 

The whole country was in a state of hysteria. At Orleans, a mob 
burned a large portrait of Napoleon in one of the principal squares, 
and then took bayonets and smashed a bust of him. A group of in- 
furiated royalists at Carcassonne butchered a live eagle caught in the 
mountains. Mobs in the Vendee and in the south of France mur- 
dered men who had been prominent in the revolution, and the local 
authorities did not venture to intervene. Not content with butchering 
their victims, the royalists went further and insulted the corpses. 
Marshal Brune, a brave Napoleonic officer, was struck down at 
Avignon; at his burial the coffin was broken open and his body 
tossed about and cast into the Rhone. The king, in order to mollify 
the Ultras, ordered the trial of a number of the officers wffio in 1815 
had gone over to Napoleon. Apparently he hoped that some of the 
more prominent ones would escape. When an industrious prefect 
captured Ney in the provinces, Louis exclaimed, “This is a piece of 
stupidity that will cost us dearly.” Brought back to Paris, Ney was 
tried by the Chamber of Peers, declared guilty of treason and shot. 
A number of other Napoleonic officials were imprisoned and executed 
by the government. 

I11 the midst of this wave of royalist reaction, the first elections 
for the new Chamber of Deputies were held. The nobility and the 
upper middle class, the only groups which had the right to vote, 
were so anxious for peace that they returned a majority of Ultras. 
In a moment of amiable enthusiasm Louis XVIII called it the 
Chambre Introuvable, an expression he must have regretted later. 
The first result of the election was the resignation of the provisional 


Talleyrand-Fouche ministry and the formation of a cabinet of 
moderate Royalists under the Due de Richelieu (1815-1818). In- 
cluded in it were the Due Decazes, a personal favorite of Louis 
XVIII, and a group of men who backed the monarch’s program of 
trying to steer a middle course between reaction and revolution. 

The new ministry soon found itself blocked by the Ultra majority 
in the Chamber of Deputies. The Ultras hated Louis XVIII, whom 
they dubbed the “crowned Jacobin” and “King Voltaire ” They set 
about embarrassing him and his ministers in every way possible. 
The more intransigent Ultras proposed to abolish the Universite de 
France and demanded an immediate restitution of the biens 
nationaux . They did succeed in abolishing divorce, in banishing a 
number of men prominent in the imperial regime, in muzzling the 
press (few sessions of the Chambers during the Restoration passed 
without some changes in the press-laws and the electoral system), 
and finally in passing a law setting up special courts to try persons 
suspected of treason. These Cours Prevotales soon became notorious 
for their high-handed methods, which seriously interfered with the 
king’s policy of conciliation. Suspected persons were arrested and 
held for weeks without trial; semi-military methods of procedure 
were used, and fines and terms of imprisonment were imposed in 
wholesale fashion. Some of the worst judicial abuses took place in 
Grenoble, where an outbreak in the garrison was brutally put down. 

All over the country business was disorganized as a result of the 
sudden end of the wars, but the declaration of Baron Louis, the 
minister of finance, that the new government would recognize the 
debts of the Empire, held out the hope of better conditions. But dur- 
ing the years 1816 and 1817 the economic situation was very bad, 
both in the towns and in the country districts. The harvests were 
as meager in France as elsewhere in Europe. The food required by 
the 150,000 men in the allied army of occupation forced up prices 
in the eastern departments even above those in the rest of France. 
In some districts the population was starving. In the midst of this 
growing distress and uncertainty, the behavior of the Chambre In- 
trouvable only aggravated the situation. On the advice of the allied 
powers, who feared that its Ultra policy might provoke a revolution, 
Louis XVIII dissolved it by royal decree in September, 1816. - 


reception of France into the Quintuple Alliance at the Congress of 
Aix-la-Chapelle were largely the work of Richelieu. The Ultras 
pushed their plan to discredit him even to the point of urging the 
allied powers to continue the military occupation of France. This 
action, together with a disagreement with the king on electoral 
policy, led Richelieu to resign in 1818; Louis XVIII then reformed 
the ministry under Dessoles and his favorite, Decazes. A more 
liberal press law was passed in 1819, and the new electoral law 
brought into the Chamber of Deputies a number of more outspoken 
Liberals, like the Abbe Gregoire, some of whose sayings, as “Kings 
are in the moral order what monsters are in the physical,” had made 
his name widely known throughout France. 

The sessions of the Chambers in 1818 and 1819 grew steadily 
more acrimonious. Embittered Ultras, like La Bourdonnaye, and 
Liberal firebrands, like Manuel and Foy, rose on the slightest pre- 
text to refight the battles of the revolution. Even Constant, who 
believed in the Restoration compromise, was now veering to the 
Left. At no time in modern France have fundamental principles 
of government been so thoroughly debated as in these legislative 
sessions of the Restoration. The deeper implications of the debates 
were most effectively embodied in the lofty discourses of the mod- 
erate royalist, . Royer-Collard. Through all the discussions ran a 
conflict as to whether the social, educational, and administrative 
settlement of the revolution should be continued and broadened, 
or narrowed, or even destroyed. The debates in the lower house 
were printed in the official Moniteur and commented on in the 
ultra-royalist Quotidienne and Drapeau Blanc , in the more moder- 
ate Journal des Debats , and in the liberal Constitutionnel , which for 
a time had the largest circulation of any newspaper in Europe. 
Although newspapers were relatively expensive, the reading public 
in shop, cafe, and at the fireside followed the parliamentary war 
with lively interest. This world of newspapers and politics offered, 
comparatively speaking, a new experience for the French people 
who now, for the first time, were making an extended experiment 
in representative government. In this lies the great importance of 
the Restoration in the political history of modern France. By 1819 
the return of prosperity and the conciliatory attitude of the king 



were gradually winning the trading classes and the peasants to the 
support of the new regime. 

While Louis XVIII was showing such remarkable shrewdness in 
reestablishing the Bourbon monarchy m France, his cousin, Fer- 
dinand VII, was rapidly driving Spain toward revolution. The 
Spanish monarch reentered his kingdom in March, 1814. The en- 
thusiasm of the mass of the Spanish people who had been fighting 
for years for his return greeted him at the frontier: everywhere he 
was acclaimed as the “well-beloved” and the “long wished-for ” 
This soon convinced him that, during the long struggle with Napo- 
leon, he had become the living symbol of the national ideal, and 
that now he could have a free hand in settling his accounts with 
the handful of liberals. In 1814 it would not have been possible 
to convince the masses that he had fawned on his jailer, Napoleon, 
and that he had even congratulated Joseph Bonaparte on his acces- 
sion to the throne of Spain. On the tenth of May, soon after he 
reached Madrid, prominent liberals in the city were arrested, and 
hurried off to prison amidst the jeers of a mob that yelled, “Long 
live the absolute king, long live the Inquisition, down with the 
Freemasons!” The next morning the city was placarded with a 
royal proclamation dissolving the Cortes and announcing, “Not 
only do I refuse to swear to observe the Constitution [of 18x2], or 
to recognize any decrees of the Cortes, but I declare Constitution 
and decrees alike null and void, today and forever.” 23 

Ferdinand then proceeded to reestablish the Inquisition, to return 
the ecclesiastical and feudal property that had changed hands since 
1808, and to restore the seigniorial rights and jurisdictions of the 
nobles in twenty-five thousand villages in Spain. For this he re- 
ceived the enthusiastic support of most of the aristocracy and the 
clergy. Foreign books and newspapers were seized at the frontiers, 
while in Spain itself the government permitted the publication of 
only two newspapers. An English traveler in Spain said of these 
newspapers, and much the same could have been said of the press 
in the Austrian Empire and in the Italian states, that they con- 
tained nothing but reports of the weather and “accounts of miracles 
wrought by different Virgins, lives of holy friars and sainted nuns, 

23 H. B Clarke, Modern Spain (Cambridge, 1906), 33. 


romances o£ marvelous conversions, libels against Jews, heretics, 
and Freemasons, and histories of apparitions." 24 

In making all these changes, Ferdinand was not only restoring 
the pre-revolutionarv power of the monarchy, the nobility, and 
the church; he was going back to an even older system of governing 
that nullified all the reforms of the eighteenth century. After 1814 
he ruled partly through a group of ministers and partly through 
a court camarilla, one member of which had formerly been a 
water-carrier and another a porter. He played one group against 
another; he allowed no one to remain for long either in the ministry 
or in the palace clique, and dismissal was usually accompanied by 
exile or imprisonment. Between 1820 and 1830 he had thirty minis- 
ters. The Duke of Wellington protested against these policies, and 
Louis XVIII, in refusing the proffered help of a Spanish regiment 
after Napoleon's escape from Elba, showed his disgust with Ferdi- 
nand's behavior. 

This scandalous regime, which the young American scholar, 
George Ticknor, characterized as a “confusion of abuses,” did noth- 
ing to relieve the economic distress of the exhausted and poverty- 
stricken people which had fought so bravely against the French 
invaders. All the public services were neglected, commerce and 
industry were ruined, the treasury was bankrupt, and the army and 
navy went unpaid and underfed. Seville, Cadiz, and the other 
commercial cities were full of merchants ruined by the long wars 
and by the revolt of the Spanish colonies in the New World. As a 
result, the upper middle class grew increasingly restless, and the 
liberal party which had framed the Constitution of 1812, though it 
represented only a small minority of the population, began to re- 
organize its forces and to conspire against the government. Dis- 
content spread in the army, whose officers had been brought into 
contact with French liberal ideas during the wars, and in the larger 
ports, where the economic depression was worst. The rapid growth 
of secret societies and the increase in membership of the Masonic 
lodges, as well as a series of small outbreaks between 1815 and 1817, 

24 J. Bowring, Observations on the State orf Religion and Literature m Spain (London, 
1820), 8 


showed that the restored monarchy was resting on the weakest 
of foundations. 


From the Baltic to Sicily the destinies of Middle Europe were 
in the control of the Hapsburgs. Throughout ali these lands the 
fall of Napoleon had been welcomed with enthusiasm; on the re- 
turn of peace the mass of the population in every state settled back 
into acceptance of the existing order. To them the governments 
did not seem despotic; they had no sense of oppression, such as 
the British and to some extent the French people would have felt 
had they been living under Hapsburg rule. The censorship of the 
press and the arrest of a few students or conspirators passed un- 
noticed among the rank and file. But among small groups of 
students and army officers, among members of the lesser nobility 
and the commercial classes there was dissatisfaction and conspiracy. 

Although the discontented elements differed in their projects of 

reform, all were agreed in their hatred of Mclternich. Through the 

next decades they developed such a portrait of him as a tyrant and 

/ ven a monster that it has now become difficult to estimate him 

with any degree of fairness. It has already been pointed out that 

Mettemch’s jyhole ..policy was. centered in his devotion to the im- 

per^ house^e served, and that out of its needs he elaborated a 

general European program of conservatism. In the delicately bal- 

! anceT Hapsburg system, ‘ the German, ItaliV&av, “and Magfar 

knds were all geared into the central dynastic wheel in such a way 

that the introduction of 3ernocratic_institutions .or the recognition 

of national entities any where_could easily upset the Hapsburg ma- 

chine everywhere. The task. of 'holding together such a federated; 

empire, made up of half the races and religions of Europe^tosedted 

problems of administration practically unknown in London mfe. 

' ,T Eer “ C ^ WaS b J a P u ^f and training a diplomat rather than an 

nn ^f _ a ’ and a£ter - 1 8 1 5 he was inclined to relyjoo exclusively 

mw ^l-^PPPELpf the existing system. Whatever one 

ffidL? 1 !? hC Wa -- n0t a mere £anati ‘ order; i 

indeed, this eighteenth-century gentleman, who to the end of his 

THE FIRST YEARS OF PEACE 1*15-1820 t 37 

life loved to read Voltaire, was not a fanatic of anything I*Ls 
failure, in the long run, lay m the fact that he could think o l no 
way of preserving what was except by preserving it as it wasJJ"^ 
The internal condition of the Austrian! Empire, which lay at the 
center of the Hapsburg domains, had been little affected bv the 
Napoleonic wars; the population accepted the government’s cen- 
sorship and its paternal rule. The provinces of Austria, as well as 
the outlying sections of the empire inhabited by Czechs, Slovaks, 
Magyars, Rumanians, and Croats, had local diets which were con- 
stituted in the medieval fashion of estates. They met rarely and for 
brief sessions; that of Hungary had no meeting from 1812 to 1825. 
They possessed no real power. 2 '' Throughout the empire there was 
practically no middle class, only nobles and peasants. The strongest 
parts of the government machine were the police and the army* 
The administration carefully distributed the latter; Hungarian 
regiments garrisoned Lombardy and V enetia, German soldiers were 
sent to Bohemia, and Croats defended Hungary. The central ad- 
ministration at Vienna, in striking contrast to that at Berlin, was not 
coordinated. There was no regularly organized ministry; each de- 
partment went its own way or rusted in its groove. Metternich 
tried to improve this administrative chaos, but failed to make way 
against old privileges and vested interests. 

In the German world outside Austria the princes drifted back 
into an eighteenth-century way of living. Heine effectively char- 
acterized the little German despotisms of the time: “When I was 
at the top of the St. Gotthard Pass, I heard Germany snoring. . . . 
She slept peacefully under the protection of her thirty-six monarchs. 
In those days, crowns sat firmly on the princes 5 heads, and at night 
they just drew' their night caps over them, while the people slept 
peacefully at their feet.’^The thirty-nine German states, following 
the arrangements made at Vienna, were now united into a federated 
Bund under the presidency of Austria, though only a part of the 
Austrian Empire and a section of Prussia were included. In the 
Assembly of the Confederation, the King of England was repre- 
sented for Hanover, the King of Denmark for Holstein, and the 

35 The Emperor Francis said of them, “I have my estates, and if they go too far I 
snap my fingers at them and send them home.” 

x 3 8 reaction and revolution 

King of Holland for Luxemburg. JThe loosely organized Bund) to- 
getlier with the great personal prestige enjoyed by Metternich, es- 
pecially in Berlin, \enabled the Hapsburgs to dominate the Germanies 
more effectively than at any time since the Thirty Years 5 War. In 
1816 the representatives of the princes met for the first time m a Diet 
at Frankfort. It soon became evident that this aristocratic body, 
directed from Vienna and helpless without a real executive, an 
army, or a system of local administration, was not the unifying 
and democratic assembly of which German patriots had dreamed 
during the War of Liberation. Small groups of liberals and nation- 
alists were not slow in starting agitation against the whole arrange- 
ment. Decade by decade their clamor increased. In 1847 Prince 
Hohenlohe called the Diet “the bed in which Germany has slum- 
bered for thirty years. 55 )Earher Gorres had said that the Bund gave 
the German people “an unlimited right of expectation." 20 

Within the various German states the promises of constitutions, 
made in the heart of the last conflict with Napoleon and embodied 
in Article XIII of the Federal Act, were only in part fulfilled. The 
Grand Duke of Saxe-Weimar was the first to grant a written 
constitution, and between 1818 and 1820 the rulers of Bavaria, Wiirt- 
temberg, Baden, and Hesse-Darmstadt took similar action. This 
was done in part to show their defiance of Austria and in part to 
get more enthusiastic support from the new districts added to their 
states by the Congress of Vienna. These constitutions, like the French 
Charter, were all royal grants; none recognized the sovereignty of 
the people. The suffrage was limited to a small group of wealthy 
landowners, and the administrative bureaucracy, as in France, 
often interfered in the elections. 

AH over the German world the liberals were waiting to see what 
Prussia would do. I11 May, 1815, Frederick William III had prom- 
ised his people a constitution, but month after month passed and 
no such document was forthcoming. Behind the scenes in the royal 
court at Berlin a bitter quarrel was raging between Hardenberg, 
who had originally urged the monarch to grant a constitution, and 
an absolutist group led by Prince Wittgenstein, the agent of Met- 

23 Cf E Iteilbron, Zmschcn zwei RevolAtwncn 1789-1848 (Berlin, 1927), and S. 
Neumann, Die Stufen dcs preussischcn Konservativismus (Berlin, 1930) 



termch. Finally, in 1817, the Prussian monarch announced the 
creation of a Council of State, and it became evident that the 
project of a constitution had, for the time being, been abandoned. 
No action was taken toward the establishment of a central parliamen- 
tary order until 1823. Great was the disappointment of the German 
liberals and nationalists who, having hoped that Prussia would take 
the lead, now looked to the south and central German states, rather 
than to Austria or Prussia, as the home of liberty and progress. 

But Prussia was compensated for her loss of prestige in other 
ways. The Council of State, made up of princes of the royal house, 
heads of the army, departmental chiefs, and nobles from the various 
provinces, brought the scattered districts of Prussia under one central 
administration. With the help of a university-trained bureaucracy, 
which was just coming into use, the government in some measure 
redeemed^ a reactionary policy by developing the best administra- 
tive efficiency in Europe. Modern Prussia has been made not by 
legislators, but by the honest and capable administration of bureau- 
crats and soldiers. Public finance, the army, the educational system 
and, after 1818, the tariff regime were greatly improved. Between' 
1815 and 1S66 the extension and improvement of the civil and mili-- 
tary administration of Prussia did far more for German unification 
than did any other force. 

A cartoon of the time of the War of Liberation showed the Ger- 
man people dragging their frightened princes out from under the 
table, setting them on their feet, and urging them to fight the 
usurper. Now the liberals complained that, although it was the 
German people who had defeated Napoleon, it was only these same 
cowardly princes who were profiting by the peace settlement. The 
universities became the chief centers of this discontent. Students 
returning from the wars in 1815 began to organize societies, 
Burschenschajten , to improve student morality, to break down the 
older types of local patriotism, and to stir the youth of the land 
with nationalist ideals. The leaders of the movement corresponded 
with each other and created a loose central organization for 
these societies, which by 1816 had members in sixteen German 



The most active of these student groups was at Jena, where the 
indulgence of the Grand Duke of Saxe-Weimar allowed the mem- 
bers to discuss and to publish freely, and to parade with their 
picturesque “Teutonic costumes” and their black, red and gold 
banners, the colors of a volunteer corps of the War of 1813. The 
Jena society in 1817 arranged a gathering of all the Burschenschaften 
at the Wartburg Castle, to celebrate the fourth anniversary of the 
Battle of Leipzig and the tercentenary of Luther’s Theses . On Oc- 
tober 1 7 about four hundred students from twelve universities 
assembled. Luther’s “Em’ feste Burg” was sung, speeches were made 
by professors from Jena and by a number of students, Luther and 
Bliicher were praised, and the students were urged, in very gen- 
eral terms, to dedicate their lives to the “holy cause of union and 
freedom.” In the evening one group formed a torchlight procession 
and marched to a hilltop opposite the castle. There, about a great 
bonfire, more speeches were made and several books, among them 
Kotzebue’s German History, a pamphlet by Schmalz, Haller’s 
treatise, and the Code Napoleon, together with a corporal’s cane, a 
* wig and other symbols of tyranny were thrown into the flames. 
It was all a rather juvenile escapade, but the effect produced on 
the German world was great, for it was the first public protest 
against the settlement of 1815. 27 

The Burschenschaft at the University of Giessen contained a small 
group of republicans led by Karl Follen, a brilliant student of law. 
He preached a mystical doctrine of republicanism and tyrannicide 
' and even talked of assembling a mob on the battlefield of Leipzig 
and proclaiming a republic. In March, 1819, Karl Sand, a young 
and mentally unbalanced theological student and a follower of Fol- 
len, murdered the dramatist, Kotzebue, an agent of Alexander I 
of Russia. Shortly afterward a student in Nassau made an attack 
on the head of the government there. During his trial, Sand main- 
tained that he had had no accomplices and that he had carried 
through his deed unaided. In spite of all efforts of the prosecution, 
no evidences of a general plot could be discovered. Sand was con- 

37 Cf. W. Oncken, The Wartburg (Berlin, 1907), chap, ix, and H. Kuhn, Das Wart - 
burgfest (Weimar, 1913). 


demned to death. At the execution some o£ the spectators dipped 
their handkerchiefs in the assassin’s blood, and carried them away 
as relics 2h 

Mettermch made capital of all this, and used the occasion to 
tighten his grip on the German states, especially on Prussia. The 
year before, at the Congress of Aix-la-Chapelle, he had found an 
opportunity to impress on the Prussian king, as well as on the 
tsar, the threat of revolution that hung over Europe. After the 
murder of Kotzebue, he called together representatives of the nine 
principal German states. They met at Carlsbad in August, 1819. 
While the British Parliament was considering the Six Acts, the 
German diplomats drew up a series of decrees. These were pre- 
sented to the Diet at Frankfort on September 20 and this body, 
which had dragged out discussion of the Federal Act for more 
than four years, now ratified Metternich’s Carlsbad Decrees in less 
than four hours. 29 The decrees provided that the Burschenschaften 
and the gymnastic societies established by Jahn be dissolved, and 
that inspectors for each university and censors for the press be ap- 
pointed, both of which provisions strengthened the power of the 
secret police. At a conference of representatives of some of the 
German princes held at Vienna in 1820 a so-called Final Act was 
agreed upon. The resistance of the governments of Bavaria and 
Wurttemberg to the growing power of Mettermch made it im- 
possible to force them to withdraw their constitutions. Nevertheless, 
Metternich now obtained from all the governments an agreement 
limiting the subjects which might be discussed in the Chambers. 
All the delegates recognized the right of the federal organs to in- 
tervene in any state where the legislature dared to assert its 
supremacy over the monarch. 

The conference at Carlsbad in 1819 had created a Federal Com- 
mission at Mainz to study the discontent in the Germanies and to 
keep the governments informed. This commission continued to 

28 There is a good study of Follen and the Burschcnschaft movement in G. W. Spindler, 
Follen (Chicago, 1917). 

23 This method of getting action by calling together representatives of the principal 
states had not been provided for m the Federal Act, and it represented a constitutional 
change in the Confederation which had important effects later on. Mettermch was here 
applying to the German problem the same method he was using in Europe; i e., govern- 
ment by diplomatic conference. 



function for nearly eight years, and, though it was never able to 
discover any organized plot, it instituted proceedings against 161 
individuals of whom forty-four were acquitted. Metternich was 
convinced that the secret societies all over Europe, and especially 
those in Germany and Italy, had an effective central organization 
in each country as well as an international bureau. Neither assump- 
tion has ever been proved. A few radicals, above all an Italian exile, 
Buonarroti, who lived in Geneva, dreamed of such an international 
liberal organization. They corresponded and conspired to further 
the idea, but without any important results. 

At the conferences called at Austria’s behest between 1817 and 
1820, Metternich succeeded in frightening the tsar, the King of 
Prussia, and the monarchs of most of the German states. After 1819 
the persecution of liberals increased. In Prussia, Jahn was impris- 
oned, Arndt lost his position at the University of Bonn, and Garres 
fled to Strasbourg. Spies were sent to hear the sermons of Schleier- 
macher, Stein was watched by the police, and Borne was forced to 
flee from Hesse-Darmstadt. By 1820 it was clear to German liberals 
that both Austria and Prussia, the two states which could force 
through a program of German unification, were hostile to liberty. 
The great hopes raised by the War of Liberation were not to be 
realized easily. 


Much the same situation existed in Italy as among the German 
states. There was a similar apathy and indifference on the part of 
the masses and the same disappointment and restlessness in higher 
circles of the population. But discontent was more widespread than 
in Germany. Italy had suffered less and gained more from the 
changes made by the French Revolution than either Spain or Ger- 
many. For nearly two decades the Italians had had excellent codes 
of law, a fair system of taxation, a better economic situation, and 
more religious and intellectual toleration than they had known for 
centuries. At the same time, the populace had been surprised to 
see how easily the temporal power of the pope could be abolished 
and their monarchs driven into exile. Everywhere old physical, 



economic, and intellectual barriers had been thrown down and the 
Italians had begun to be aware of a common nationality. 30 

The last jears of the Empire, with the theft of art works, the 
Continental Blockade, the heavy taxes, and the corscription, had 
made Napoleon’s imperial rule as hated in Italy as it was elsewhere. 
Hence his overthrow was widely acclaimed. When it became evident, 
however, that Austria would use all her powers to restore the Ancien 
Regime, Italian liberals at once protested. The peace settlement was 
made at Vienna without any consideration whatever for Italian 
hopes. It doomed Italy to remain, until i860, the mere “geographical 
expression” of Mettcrnich. 31 Over the whole peninsula lay the 
shadow of Hapsburg domination. Austria’s influence in Italian af- 
fairs had grown steadily through the eighteenth century, and the 
settlement of 1815 simply completed the process. Austria ensured her 
control by her dynastic connections with the reigning Kalian fami- 
lies, 32 by a treaty with Naples and another with Tuscany, and by 
the use of the secret police of all the Italian states who were obliged 
to report to the Austrian authorities. As the system worked out, the 
secret police of the various states, cooperating with that of Austria, 
functioned as a sort of Hapsburg administrative system from one 
end of the peninsula to the other. This political police aroused a 
profound abhorrence among the Italians. The irritation created was 
precisely of the kind which the patriots could most effectively use. 
The dark machinations of the political spy could be set off most ef- 
fectively against the life of the shining young patriot-hero who was 
caught in the subtle toils of the police and was delivered over to 
a martyr’s fate of prison, exile, or death. 

In the mdhidual states, the governments set up by the returning 
rulers combined the worst features of the old order and of the 
French rule, the obscurantism of the former, and the political police 

30 The two most useful studies of the Italian situation are A. Lii/io, T.a mcssoncria e 
tl nsorgimento itakano (a vols , Bologna, 1925 ) and K R. Greenfield, Economics and 
Liberalism in He R'sorqimcnto 18H-48 (Baltimore, 1934). 

11 Xapoleon from St. Helena judged the situation with more shrewdness than Mettcr- 
nich ‘ Italy is surrounded by the A Jos and the sea, and, isolated between he: ratural 
limits she is destined to form a g:eat ard pcwe’til ration Rome wdl be chosen as tbe 
capital ” Contebsa Mart inengo-Cesaresco, The LiknaLoK of Italy (London, 1S95), 3. 

33 The wife of the King of Piedmont was the cousin of the Austrian Emperor, as 
was also the Duke of Modena The Duke of Tuscany was his brother, Marie Louise of 
Parma his daughter, and the Queen of Naples his aunt. 



and the foreign control of the latter. Some French institutions were 
abolished; those that remained lost their effectiveness because of the 
policies of the restored rulers. In the south, including three-eighths of 
the peninsula, was the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies. The monarch, 
Ferdinand I, an ignorant reactionary like his nephew, the King of 
Spam, was bound by a secret treaty with Austria not to introduce 
liberal reforms. At Metternich’s bidding he abolished the Constitu- 
tion which, in 1812, the British had helped introduce in Sicily, and 
which Ferdinand had promised to observe. He restored many of 
the monastic lands, invited in the Jesuits, and reconstituted the Holy 
Office. His chief minister, Canosa, summed up the royal theory of 
government when he remarked that “the first servant of the crown 
should be the executioner The .police, though unable to curb the 
worst brigandage in western Europe, committed such atrocities on 
liberals that the representatives of England and Russia protested. 
The lower elements of the population were miserably poor and sunk 
in superstition, laziness, and filth. They remained strongly royalist 
and clerical and after 1815 were frequently used by the government 
against the middle class liberals. 

In the Papal States conditions were not much better. Consalvi, 
who had served the papacy so well at Vienna, tried to introduce 
reforms in local administration, but he could make no headway 
against the Zelanti, the reactionary party at the papal court. So 
he turned his efforts to furthering the European interests of the 
Holy See. All the innovations introduced by the French, from law 
courts to vaccination, were abolished, priests filled all the public 
offices, and “the images of the Madonna again began to roll their 
eyes.” Brigandage was nearly as bad as in the Kingdom of the Two 
Sicilies. The police spent much time In hunting down “a class called 
thinkers.” At times there were in Rome, besides many political 
prisoners, as many as three thousand suspects confined to their 
houses between sundown and sunrise. The general administration 
of the Papal States was so wretched that in 1821 the powers issued 
a common note of complaint against the abuses. Characterizing the 
situation with much foresight, the Piedmontese ambassador wrote, 

It is only reasonable to suppose that, if the present state of things 
continues in Rome, some fundamental crisis will take place. The 



most probable outcome is that the great city will become merely an 
ecclesiastical capital, retaining only the shadow o£ imperial power. 5 ’ 33 

In the rest of the Italian states a fairly honest administration was 
combined with political tyranny and repression. The ablest monarch 
among the rulers of the four duchies, Modena, Parma, Tuscany, 
and Lucca, was Francis IV of Modena. He was a treacherous and 
ambitious man, who was regarded by the liberals as a sort of Cesare 
Borgia. After his restoration he spent his best energies intriguing 
to gain more power in the peninsula. Although he was generous 
in his treatment of the poor, he feared and persecuted the middle 
class. In Tuscany, the Hapsburg Archduke Ferdinand III and his 
chief minister, Fossombroni — whose dictum was “Tomorrow, to- 
morrow — dinner will spoil, the state will wait’ 4 — returned to the 
political methods of eighteenth-century despotism. The government 
gave shelter to refugees from the Romagna and Naples; it per- 
mitted the publication after 1820 of the Antologia, a liberal literary 
review; and allowed the Florentines to send help to the Greek 
insurgents. Florence was the only Italian city where the dramas 
of Alfieri and Niccolini could be played. Still, the archduke’s govern- 
ment irritated the people by maintaining an elaborate system of 
spies, and amused them when, on the discovery of Giotto’s portrait 
of Dante beneath the whitewash on the walls of the Bargello, it 
had the colors altered lest they suggest the revolutionary tricolor. 
Commerce and manufacture flourished under a laissez-faire regime, 
and the easy-going Tuscans seem to have been reasonably contented. 

In the Kingdom of Piedmont Victor Emmanuel I and his staff 
returned to Turin wearing powdered wigs, and the monarch soon 
instituted a general clearing-out of much that the French had in- 
troduced. As in Lombardy and Tuscany, the Jesuits were excluded, 
and the secular clergy were controlled by the state. In a certain 
old-fashioned honesty and efficiency of administration, and in the 
attention paid to the army, the Kingdom of Piedmont resembled 
Prussia. Yet the young Cavour, living in Turin, a “city half-barracks 
and half-cloister,” found his native land “an intellectual hell.” Eco- 
nomically the country prospered, profiting especially from the an- 
nexation in 1815 of the great port of Genoa. 

83 Cambridge Modern History, X, 109. 



The richest and the best administered section in all Italy was 
the Lombard-Venetian Kingdom, a territory which conferred on its 
possessor the strategic keys to the peninsula, the four great fortresses 
of Mantua, Verona, Peschiera, and Legnago, known as the Quadri- 
lateral In spite of some traces of local self-government, the two 
provinces were ruled directly from Vienna. The Austrian govern- 
ment built excellent roads and bridges and introduced the best 
system of state education that existed anywhere in Italy. These ad- 
vantages, however, could not hide the fact that the Hapsburg rule, 
in matters of policing, taxation, and tariff policy treated the provinces 
like conquered territories. The censorship was so severe that even 
the works of Dante had to be expurgated. Metternich reminded 
the inhabitants that “the Lombards must forget that they are 
Italians.” Milan had the most cultivated aristocracy and the most 
prosperous middle class in Italy. In these circles the rule of Austria 
became very unpopular. Here Pellico, the poet, and Conte Con- 
falonieri founded in 1818 a liberal literary magazine, 11 Conciliator e t 
whose existence was cut short by the authorities in 1819. From 
Sicily to the Alps Italy, like Germany, was ultimately ruled from 
the Hofburg in Vienna. 

As the whole life of the Italian people had been more deeply af- 
fected by the changes of the French Revolution than that of the 
Germans or Spaniards, it was natural that after 1815 the hatred 
of reaction should be more widespread. This dissatisfaction took 
different forms, each of which in turn contributed to the freeing 
of Italy. Among the intellectuals in the north the nationalist propa- 
ganda of a group of literary men began to take root. During the 
revolution Alfieri, the father of modern Italian patriotic literature, 
had used his dramas to denounce all forms of arbitrary government 
and had preached the ideal of a free and united Italy. Although he 
died in 1803, his influence increased, and many a Carbonaro knew 
by heart long passages from his tragedies. In the next decades a 
series of novels and plays and poems by Foscolo, Berchet, Pellico, 
Manzoni, Niccolini, Giordani, and Leopardi emphasized die value 
of literature as a means of arousing a new spirit of national unity 
among the Italian people. 34 Through the influence of these men 

34 Cf. R. Huch, Confalonieri (Leipzig, 1922), and I. Origo, Leopardi (Oxford, 1935). 


Dante and Machiavelli were reprinted and became living forces 
in the movement. Foscolo’s novel, Jacopo Ortis (1802), is typical 
of this new romantic and nationalist literature. Just as Kollar was, 
a few years later, to address the Slavs, so Foscolo in his story lamented 
that the Italians in their little states regarded each other as for- 
eigners, whereas they were really one people with a common destiny. 
The movement took deep hold of the rising generation; Mazzini, 
Cavour, and Garibaldi all found Foscolo’s novel the most inspiring 
reading of their youth. Few of these literary men were members of 
the Carbonari, though Pellico joined the sect and took part in the 
conspiracy that produced the Revolution of 1821. He and several 
others suffered exile or imprisonment. Their ideas of the glories 
of Italian culture and their hope for a brighter national future 
spread in the universities. The results were seen after 1820 when 
the universities began to furnish to the nationalist movement its 
thinkers and writers. 

The only organized opposition to the existing order, before 1831, 
took the form of secret societies. During the Napoleonic period 
groups which resembled the Tugendbund in Germany had been 
organized against “the Usurper.” These organizations, like the 
liberal associations in Spain, and after 1821 in France, were often 
recruited in part from the membership of the Freemasonic lodges. 
Originally the lodges had been favorable to Napoleon, who had 
used them to stabilize his regime. But in the later days of the Empire 
they had turned against him. From the Freemasons the liberal secret 
societies borrowed their complicated system of organization, their 
ritual of initiation, and certain signs and passwords. The lodges 
and the secret societies, after 1815, usually maintained friendly rela- 
tions, though most of the conspiring was done in the secret political 
associations. The earliest of these was the Carbonari of Naples, 
founded before 1810. Gradually similar groups were formed in the 
other states, the Federati in Piedmont, the Guelfi in Bologna, the 
Adelphi in Lombardy. Before the downfall of Napoleon these so- 
cieties had been strongly clerical and opposed to the French regime, 
but after 1815 they became liberal and nationalist in purpose. Thou- 
sands flocked into these organizations. There were between fifty 
and a hundred thousand members in the Kingdom of the Two 



Sicilies alone in 1820. This large membership included some 
criminals and adventurers, but the majority was made up o£ doctors, 
lawyers, students, overtaxed small proprietors, civil and military 
officers who had served under the Napoleonic regime, and some of 
the lower clergy. 

These groups corresponded with each other, though they had 
no central organization, as the governments believed. Beyond a 
hatred of Austria and of tyranny in general, they had no common 
program. In Sicily the secret societies wanted the expulsion of the 
Neapolitans; on the mainland the Neapolitan groups plotted for 
the establishment of a constitutional regime; in the Papal States the 
conspirators hoped for a government by laymen; and in Piedmont 
they wished to introduce a constitution. Some were liberal monarch- 
ists; others were republicans. As Mazzini pointed out later, their 
great weakness lay in their failure to think and plan in terms of 
the whole peninsula. Despite their poor organization and the lack 
of a common program the secret societies were able in 1820 to start 
a revolution in Naples and in 1821 in Piedmont. By that time dis- 
content was wide and deep, and, as time was to show, neither 
police vigilance, nor the galley, nor the gallows was able to stamp 
it out. Persecution only fanned and scattered the smoldering flame. 35 

85 The great regeneration of Italian life that was beginning to get under way was not 
comprehended in the north of Europe. Ranke, Lamartine, Byron, and other travelers 
shared Metternich’s view that the Italians had no future. In 1818 Shelley wrote to 
Godwin, “The modern Italians seem a miserable people, without sensibility or imagination 
or understanding.” 

Chapter Six 


By thf end of 1819 liberalism seemed a lost cause. The Six Acts 
in England, the Carlsbad Decrees in the Gcrmames, and the re- 
pressi\e measures used bv all governments had driven res 1 stance 
underground; as a result, the surface of political life from Lisbon 
to St. Petersburg bore the appearance of profound calm. But the 
year 1820 had hardly opened before a senes of revolutionary dis- 
turbances broke out. In Spain and Portugal, in some of the Italian 
states, and eventually in Greece the revolutionaries overthrew the 
existing order; e\ cn in England and France attempts were made 
upon the lives of members of the government. Within a few years 
a serious revolt broke out in the Russian arm\. “On Andes’ and on 
Athos’ peaks unfurled,'’ wrote Byron, “the self-same standard 
streams o’er either world!” 

The conservative forces were convinced that the revolutionaries 
of every country were united and were working together through 
the Freemasonic lodges. This was not the case, however. The Free- 
masons, as such, had no political program beyond the one idea of 
religious liberty. Hence in the countries which allowed such free- 
dom the Freemasons showed little or no hostility to the government. 
In Catholic countries, because of the opposition of the clergy, the 
Freemasons were forced to work in secret, and were inevitably more 
or less opposed to the government. The membership included more 
intellectuals and more military men, fewer members of the wealthy 
bourgeoisie and no government officials. In France, Spain, Italy, 
Poland, and Russia the Freemasonic lodges and the secret so- 
cieties often cooperated. The conservatives, though, suffered from a 
number of illusions — that the Freemasons throughout Europe were 
united in a common political front against all governments, that 




the Freemasons and the secret societies were everywhere working 
in the closest cooperation, and finally that there was for all the 
secret societies a single organization directed from Paris. The mon- 
arch^ of Europe were united, and they jumped to the conclusion 
that their enemies must be. 1 

Of the series of disturbances that broke out, those in England and 
France were of a less dangerous nature than the revolts in southern 
Europe. In England the Six Acts had embittered the radicals to a 
point where some of the hotheads were willing to resort to assas- 
sination. The aged and insane George III died on the twenty-ninth 
of January, 1820. Less than a month later Thistlewood and a band 
of radical associates were arrested for hatching a plot to get rid of 
the whole Tory ministry. A dinner was to be the occasion for the 
carrying out of the conspiracy. The assassination of the ministers 
was to be followed by the seizure of sufficient cannon to overcome 
the London populace and to occupy the Bank of England; then 
a provisional government was to be set up. An agent provocateur 
had supplied the plotters with arms, had pointed out the most 
opportune time and place for the attempt, and, finally, had brought 
in the police. The result was that the conspirators, who met in a 
house on Cato Street, were surprised in the midst of their prepara- 
tions. They resisted the police and killed the first constable who 
entered the place. In the confusion the leader and fourteen of the 
conspirators escaped so that, at the time, only three were arrested, 
but Thisdewood and several others were captured the next day. 
Brought to trial on a charge of treason, all were sentenced to death. 
Thistlewood and four others were executed on May 1 and the rest 
were forced to leave the country. This affair, together with the 
suppression of a political riot near Glasgow, on April 2, prejudiced 
the liberal cause in England and for the time seemed to justify 
the arbitrary measures of Lord Liverpool’s Tory cabinet. The popu- 
lar reform movement was crushed only to reappear ten years later 
at the time of the agitation that preceded the reform of Parlia- 
ment in 1832. 

A week before the discovery of the Cato Street Conspiracy, the 
# Due de Berri, the nephew of the French king, was assassinated as 

1 C£. G. Weill, “Buonarroti,” Revue historique, 1901. 



he was leaving the Opera House in Paris. The act was the work 
of a fanatic, Louvel, who had plotted without accomplices. He had 
planned to cut off the hopes of the royal family for an heir, as 
it was now assumed that the king’s other nephew, the Due 
d’Angouleme, would never have children. All the pent-up fury of 
the Ultras broke loose, and in the Chamber of Deputies a member 
demanded the resignation of Decazes, the head of the ministry, 
whom he accused of being an accomplice of the assassin. The Ultra 
press openly blamed Decazes for the crime and spoke of the knife 
that had killed the Due de Berri as a “liberal idea.” In vain Decazes 
affirmed his innocence, and proposed a more severe censorship and 
a new electoral law. The royal family, especially the Comte d’Artois 
and the Duchesse d’Angouleme, clamored for his dismissal. Louis, 
complaining that the Ultras thought only of exploiting his grief, 
finally agreed to part with his favorite, who was made a duke and 
sent as minister to London. The king then called back the Due de 
Richelieu, who formed a new ministry. 

For the Ukras the assassination of the Due de Berri had, as one 
of the Liberals said, “something providential about it, and he was 
now more useful to them than his living presence would have been.” 
It brought about a change such as had not occurred in French 
politics since 1815, and entirely upset the compromise policy of Louis 
XVIIL Hitherto the moderate royalists had hoped that, with the 
backing of the king, they might reconcile liberalism with the mon- 
archy, but Louvel’s crime had made such a middle course impossible. 
Henceforth moderate royalism was a losing cause and within a 
few years there were just two factions in France, the Ultra and the 
revolutionary. The new ministry under the Due de Richelieu initi- 
ated a more reactionary policy by reestablishing a severe censorship 
over the press and by altering the electoral laws so as to throw the 
balance of power into the hands of the larger landed aristocrats. 
The royalists rejoiced when on September 29, 1820, the Duchesse de 
Berri gave birth to a son, the Due de Bordeaux, thus assuring the 
continuance of the dynasty. 

The growing reaction on the part of the government led to a rapid 
Increase in the membership of secret societies in France, all of 
which, because they had a centralized organization on the model of 



the Neapolitan Carbonari, came to be known as the French Car- 
bonari. Most of the members were recruited from the ranks of the 
army, though some professional men and well-to-do peasant- 
proprietors joined, the latter, as in Italy, because they feared the 
government might force them to give up the lands of the church 
and the nobles which they had acquired as a result of the revolu- 
tion. By 1822 there were branches of a centralized secret organiza- 
tion in thirty-five departments. The conspirators directed all their 
efforts toward overthrowing the Bourbons, though they had no com- 
mon proposal for replacing them. Some were Bonapartists, others 
were Grleanists, and a small faction were republicans. Victor Cousin, 
the philosopher, Thierry, the historian, Dubois and Jouffroy, who in 
1824 founded the Globe , and Bazard, later one of the founders of 
the Saint-Simonian School, were among the members. 2 

The French secret societies, like corresponding organizations in 
Spain, Italy, Germany, Poland, and Russia, made no serious at- 
tempt to affiliate the mass of the peasants or the working classes of 
the towns. In the years 1821 and 1822 the societies produced a series 
of plots, chiefly in the garrison towns; all failed miserably. At La 
Rochelle four young sergeants, who refused to answer all questions, 
met their death so heroically that they have ever since been regarded 
by French radicals as the outstanding political martyrs of the Restora- 
tion. The high social and political position of some of the conspira- 
tors, among them the redoubtable Lafayette, deterred the govern- 
ment from conducting a thorough investigation of the whole move- 
ment. Although the Ultras in France and the Tories in England, as 
well as Alexander and Metternich, regarded this conspiring as very 
dangerous, it never proved to be a serious menace to the Bourbon 
regime. The failure of the plots led to the break-up of most of the 
French secret societies by 1822. 3 

These flurries in England and France failed to gain the attention 
that would have been given them earlier, because a more serious 
revolt in Spain was now focusing the interest of all governments. 
Since the return of Ferdinand in 1814, the dislike of his rule had 

*Cf. G. Weill, Histovre du parti republican en France, 1814-70 (2nd ed. # Paris, 

3 Cf. A. Calmette, “Les carbonari en France sous la Restauration ” Revolution de 
Z848 (1913*14). 


J 53 

grown steadily, especially in the army, where the men suffered 
from poor rations, wretched barracks, and insufficient pay, and 
among the merchants of the large ports, whose trade had been 
ruined by the re\Oit of the colonies. The royal government had most 
to fear from, the army, net only because of this acute discontent hut 
also because the long wars against Napoleon had created a re- 
sourceful body of officers used to taking things into their own hands. 
During the rest of the nineteenth century they were, on a number 
of occasions, to start rebellions, issue pronun ciamentos, and rake 
over the government. 

When Ferdinand returned to his throne in 1814 he had found 
that the revolt of the colonies in America made the financial re- 
covery of the government nearly impossible. Unable to acquire 
the revenues he needed from Spain itself, and unable likewise to get 
help from Russia or any of the other powers, he had deepened his 
determination to subdue the rebellious colonies. 4 Early in 1820, when 
a contingent of the army was ready to start from Cadiz to fight the 
revolting colonists in America, two military detachments proclaimed 
the Constitution of 1812.° At first the rising met with little suc- 
cess. The revolutionary forces lacked military equipment and the 
population remained apathetic. In order to arouse the people and 
to procure supplies for the revolutionary troops, Riego, the com- 
mander of one of the revolutionary detachments, marched his men 
through central Andalusia. Failing to obtain support from either 
the civilian population or the military garrisons, he disbanded his 
forces in the mountains. The outbreak seemed to be over. 0 

Suddenly, however, news reached Madrid that, while the south- 
ern rebellion was fading out, a veritable revolution was spreading 
in the north, and that Corunna, Oviedo, Saragossa, Valencia, and 
Barcelona had proclaimed the Constitution of 1812. At Madrid it- 

4 Cf. A. F. Zimmerman, “Spain and its Colonies, 1808-1820,” Hispanic American His- 
torical Rcvicu 1 (1931) 

6 This document was to play a leading role in the Portuguese and Italian revolutions 
of 1820 also It provided for a government by a single-chambered legislature elected by 
a limited suffrage It gave to the monarch only a suspensory veto. The mo it conservative 
provision stipulated that Catholicism was to be the religion of the state The greatest 
weakness of the constitution, howevei, was that it did not represent the needs or wishes 
of the country but was the work of a handful of liberals from the larger commercial cities. 

0 The-e is much n^w matt-ia’ on the Spanish Revolut.on in J Sarrailh, Mcii'.nez de la 
Rosa (Bordeaux, 1930), Villa-Urrutia, Fernando VII, rey constitutional (Madrid, 192.2)? 
and E. Astur, Ricgo (Oviedo, 1933). 



self, where mobs began to sing revolutionary songs in the streets,, 
the king and his camarilla were in dismay. Early in March Fer- 
dinand saw that he would have to yield, and on the seventh of the 
month he announced in the official gazette that the Cortes would be 
convened at once. He accepted a provisional government of liberals, 
which organized a national militia, and set July as the time for 
the meeting of the Cortes. On the eighth of March the king issued 
a decree in which he announced, “I have decided to take the oath 
to the Constitution promulgated by the Cortes of 1812.” There was 
great rejoicing in the larger towns; the names of great squares were 
changed to “Plaza de la Constitucion”; revolutionary juntas were 
formed; liberals, some of whom had been in prison since 1814, 
were released, while others returned from exile. On the ninth of 
March Ferdinand took the oath to respect the Constitution. 

The liberals now began to show both their inexperience and their 
lack of unity. When the Cortes met, the moderados, who were 
anxious to avoid an open conflict with the king and the church, 
held a majority of the seats. Their program, part of which was 
enacted into law, was condemned by the extremists on both sides. 
The resentment of the conservatives was aroused by the abolition 
of some of the religious orders and the confiscation of about two- 
thirds of the church lands, by changes in the laws of inheritance, 
and by the amnesty to those who had followed King Joseph Bona- 
parte. At the same time, the immunity granted to those army offi- 
cers who had resisted the liberal forces, the curbing of the activity 
of revolutionary patriotic societies, and the restrictions on the press 
angered a younger group of radicals, the exaitados , who leaned to- 
ward republicanism and who found the older liberals, “the men of 
1812,” too moderate. The division in the Cortes between the 
moderados and the exaitados , neither of whom had any real back- 
ing in the country, grew more marked after a visit which Riego 
made to Madrid in August. 

The military hero of the revolution was feted by the radical clubs. 
Impressed by this adulation, he threatened, for a time, to establish 
a kind of dictatorship over the Cortes. The ministry forced him to 
leave the capital and to return to the army, but the partisans of 
Riego expelled the friends of the government from the Freemasonic 



lodges, and established new Masonic centers, known as comuneros , 
a name given to the Castilian insurgents of 1520. By 1822 this 
society numbered ten thousand members. The split was fatal for 
the moderados and for the ultimate success of the revolution. Affairs 
moved in a vicious circle; each excess of the extremists provoked 
repressive measures from the ministry; each repressive measure made 
the radicals more violent. They insisted that the conquests of the 
revolution were being taken back piecemeal by its pretended friends. 
Crowds surged through the streets singing the “Hymn of Riego,” 
a song composed for the hero’s troops, and roaring out the popular 
phrase, “Tragala, perro !” — “Swallow it [the constitution], you dog!” 

Outside the capital local government practically disappeared. 
While the Cortes debated, confusion grew. The finances were -in 
complete disorder, the army dwindled almost to nothing, yellow 
fever raged through the southeast, and by 1822 a French army 
of observation (soon to become an army of intervention) was con- 
centrated along the Pyrenees. The Cortes was completely discredited, 
and the king and the reactionary party began to hope. The elections 
of 1822 assured the radical wing, the exaltados , of a majority. Riego 
was chosen president of the new Chamber which, owing to a provi- 
sion in the constitution, contained no members of the Cortes of 
1820. Martinez de la Rosa and a group of moderados were chosen 
by the king to form a ministry. Refusing to accept this cabinet, 
the Cortes forced its resignation, and the monarch, who was now 
merely biding his time until the powers should intervene, chose a 
ministry of exaltados . The action of this new Chamber outraged the 
moderate liberals and the Catholic masses, and helped to strengthen 
the counter-revolutionary party. 

The reactionaries had set up a royalist regency at Urgel which 
was actively preparing to aid the European powers who were on 
the point of intervening. A manifesto of this regency, dated August 
15, 1822, and signed by the Archbishop of Tarragona, denounced 
both the Constitution of 1812 and the Cortes, and called upon the 
Spanish people to liberate “their captive king.” The revolutionary 
government forced the leaders of the regency to flee to France, but 
the secret plotting of the royalists continued. Throughout the prov- 
inces there were continual clashes between royalists and radicals and 



a state of civil war prevailed. The growing danger of foreign in- 
tervention drove the Cortes to ever more radical measures. The 
efforts of the British ambassador to moderate its ardor and to get 
it to provide for a second chamber, a project earlier favored by some 
of the moderados , met with no success. On account of the split in 
the liberal forces, the reactionaries were slowly gaining the upper 
hand when the threat of a French invasion led the Cortes to remove 
itself and the king to Seville on the twentieth of March, 1823. On 
April 7, a French army under the Due d’Angouleme crossed the 
frontier, and the doom of the revolution was sealed. 

The overthrow of despotism in Spain had provoked a somewhat 
similar movement in Portugal. When the royal family fled to Brazil 
in 1807, the government was put in the hands of a regent, though 
from 1809 to 1820 the real ruler of the country was the English 
soldier, Marshal Beresford. His honest but severe rule was dis- 
tasteful to the upper classes who were, at the same time, dissatis- 
fied with the idea of seeming to be only a dependency of Brazil. 
In 1820, when Beresford went to Rio de Janeiro to consult John 
VI, and to procure from him greater powers for repressing the 
growing discontent, a revolt broke out in Oporto. As in Spain, the 
army took the lead; a revolutionary junta was formed, and the Eng- 
lish officers were driven out. Other towns having revolted, a provi- 
sional government was established in Lisbon, and the timid regent 
was forced to accept it. The new government demanded the return 
of the monarch from Brazil and called a national assembly to draw 
up a constitution. In four months this document was completed. 
Following the model of the Spanish Constitution of 1812, it abolished 
the last relics of feudalism, guaranteed the equality of all citizens 
and the freedom of the press, and established a single-chambered 
legislature as the governing body of the state. When this assembly 
met it suppressed the Inquisition, abolished some of the religious 
orders, and confiscated part of the church lands. 

The king returned to Portugal in 1821, leaving his eldest son, Dom 
i Pedro, as regent in Rio de Janeiro. Arrived in Lisbon, John VI 
agreed to accept the new order; in October, 1822, he swore allegiance 
to the new constitution. The leading men in Brazil, in the mean- 
time becoming indignant at the high-handed attitude of the revo- 



lutionary government in Lisbon, forced Dom Pedro to proclaim 
the independence of Brazil and to accept the title of emperor. This 
sudden loss of Brazil, though not officially recognized by the Por- 
tuguese government until 1825, brought discredit on John VI and 
the revolutionary regime in Portugal. The queen, her second son, 
Dom Miguel, and a group of nobles forced the monarch to dis- 
solve the assembly and revoke the constitution. The king, however, 
was far from being pleased to find himself in the hands of his wife 
and son and their absolutist followers. Though he abrogated the 
Constitution of 1822, he appointed a junta to draw up a new charter 
establishing parliamentary government after the English model. 
Dom Miguel and his absolutist followers continued to quarrel with 
the government. It took the united action of the powers to hold 
the monarch on the throne, and the intervention of England in 1826 
and 1827 to maintain even the semblance of a parliamentary regime. 
The term anarchy best describes the general condition of the country. 

During these same years the revolutionary movement was sweep- 
ing over Italy. On July 2, 1820, soon after the news of the successes 
of the Spanish liberals reached the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, a 
revolt broke out in the garrison at Nola. A few' days later a small 
band of troops marched to the headquarters of General Pepe, a 
high-spirited officer whom the king had offended and who had 
plotted in 1819 to kidnap him. They offered Pepe the leadership 
of the revolution. He hesitated, but when he heard that the Car- 
bonari of the neighboring districts were joining the revolt, he threw 
in his lot with the insurgents. In the beginning the uprising was 
directed more against Austrian influence in the army — the com- 
mander-in-chief, Nugent, was an Austrian — than against domestic 
tyranny. The king was aware that the army, which had remained 
loyal to Murat to the end, would be of little use against the In- 
surgents. So he yielded to the demands of a delegation of Carbonari, 
who waited upon him at the royal palace, and proclaimed the 
Spanish Constitution of 1812, the actual provisions of which seem 
to have been unknown. A provisional committee under the regency 
of the king’s son took over the government. Political prisoners were 
liberated, the special military courts which had been used for political 
oppression were abolished, and the press freed. Agreeing to these 



changes, Ferdinand assured Pepe, whom he had made head of the 
army, that he would have granted a constitution earlier had he 
only known there was a general desire for one! 7 The Carbonari 
organized a great procession to celebrate their triumph. Priests 
with rosaries and swords at their belts and carrying red, white, and 
green banners led the host. Doctors, lawyers, teachers, and soldiers 
followed. Orators harangued the crowd, and the ancient city of 
Naples seemed to renew its life. The revolution had been accom- 
plished with almost ludicrous ease. 

When the news of these sudden changes reached Sicily, the army 
in some of the garrison towns proclaimed the Spanish Constitution, 
but the other factions, reaffirming the Sicilian Constitution of 1812, 
refused to cooperate with the revolutionary government on the main- 
land. A civil war broke out in Palermo. Only after the provisional 
government had sent an army to take the city did the Sicilians yield. 
Thus the Neapolitan government not only received no help from 
the Sicilians, but was obliged to keep a garrison of six thousand 
men in the island. 

Parliament met in Naples in October, 1820. The majority of 
the deputies, like those in the Spanish and in the Portuguese 
assemblies of the same year, were moderates, chosen almost ex- 
clusively from the lower nobility and the professional classes. Only 
seventeen out of the seventy-two deputies were members of the 
Carbonari. The Parliament did indeed represent the intellectual 
elite of its generation, but the deputies were inexperienced and were, 
like their fellows in Spain and Portugal, hampered at the outset 
by the Spanish Constitution of 1812, which gave great opportunity 
to the extremists. Some of the moderates, as in Spain, proposed the 
introduction of a second chamber, but the extremists opposed it 
furiously. Parliament failed, in every case, to work fast enough to 

7 On July 13 he took the following oath: “I, Ferdinand of Bourbon, by the grace of 
God and by the Constitution of the Neapolitan monarchy, King of the Two Sicilies, swear 
in the name of God and on the Holy Evangels that I will defend and preserve the 
Constitution Should I act contrary to my oath and contrary to any article in this 
Constitution, I ought not to be obeyed; and every act by which I contravened it would 
be null and void Thus doing, may God aid and protect me, otherwise may He call me to 
account,” Then, uplifting his eyes he uttered this brief prayer* “Omnipotent God, who 
with Thine infinite gaze readest the soul and the future— if I lie or intend to break this 
oath, do Thou at this instant hurl on my head the lightnings of Thy vengeance.” Again 
he kissed the Holy Book, and, turning to Pepe, who stood ncm-, he said meekly, “General, 
believe me, this time I have sworn from the bottom of my heart,” E. Poggi, Storia 
dltaha dal 1814 al 1846 (Florence, 1883), I, 262-263. 



suit the radical element in the army and in the Carbonari societies 
and so, from the very beginning, it was threatened at one and the 
same time by the reactionary intriguing of the king and by the 
revolutionary plotting of the radicals. The mass of the population, 
in the meantime, remained indifferent. While the various revolu- 
tionary groups dickered among themselves, the Neapolitan king, 
now in communication with Metternich, was planning the over- 
throw of the revolution. In January, 1821, he left for Laibach to 
confer with Metternich, having solemnly promised the assembly 
in Naples before his departure that he was going to see the allied 
statesmen “in order to obtain the sanction of the powers for the 
newly acquired liberties” and that he would do everything to 
leave his people “in the possession of a wise and free constitution.” 
His Parliament, with even more naive faith than that which the 
Spanish Cortes had placed in their king, allowed him to go. In the 
meantime, an Austrian army was being assembled in Lombardy. 

The disturbances in Naples led to revolutionary flurries in the 
Papal States, though the police kept them from going further than 
the planting of liberty trees. But the sparks were flying northward. 
In March, 1821, a revolt broke out in Piedmont. This rising was the 
work of a group of aristocrats and intellectuals, as well as of army 
officers; its aim was not only to establish a constitutional govern- 
ment but also to expel the Austrians and to unite the whole of 
Italy under the House of Savoy. The conspirators hoped to be able 
to persuade the heir to the throne, Charles Albert, a youth of 
twenty-two, to place himself at the head of the movement. For a 
time he seems to have intended to cooperate, but his loyalty to his 
father and uncle finally overcame his burning hatred of Austria. 
He changed his mind, informed the conspirators that they must not 
count on him, and then notified the minister of war of the plot. 
The leaders attempted to prevent the rising, but their messengers 
arrived at Alessandria too late to forestall the seizure of the citadel 
by a band of soldiers and citizens. When the news of the outbreak 
reached the liberal leaders in Turin, they made a half-hearted effort 
to carry out their original plans. They demanded the Spanish Con- 
stitution of 1812 and a war against Austria. Victor Emmanuel, a 
ruler of greater decision than was shown by his fellow monarchs 



in Spain, Portugal, and the Two Sicilies, not wishing to start a 
war with Austria, promptly abdicated in favor of his brother, Charles 
Felix, and turned over the government to a regency under his 
nephew, Charles Albert. The young regent proclaimed the Spanish 
Constitution of 1812, subject to the approval of Charles Felix who, 
on his arrival in Turin, rejected everything that his nephew had 
done. Charles Albert had in the meantime left Turin, and on his 
uncle’s orders had exiled himself to Florence. The revolutionaries, 
under the command of Santorre di Santarosa, continued to hold the 
loyalty of a part of the army, though it was evident that, even with- 
out foreign intervention, the movement was destined to fail. 8 



The epidemic of revolution in Spain, Portugal, and Italy, together 
with a revolt of the Greeks against the Ottoman government which 
broke out in 1821, taxed to the limit the diplomatic resources of 
the European Alliance. Until 1820 the Alliance had worked suc- 
cessful^ The attempt to govern Europe by conference, begun dur- 
ing the last years of the wars, for a time took the form of an ambas- 
sadorial committee in Paris, of which the Duke of Wellington acted 
as head. Its primary function was to watch over France, especially 
to arrange the payment of the war indemnity and to supervise the 
army of occupation — the first international army that had ever 
existed in time of peace. By the beginning of 1818, after the ambas- 
sadorial conference had set definite sums for the payment of war 
damages to the various powers and the French government had 
arranged for the final payment, the allied governments deemed it 
time to call a general conference to confirm these agreements and 
to decide on their future relations with France. 9 Such a conference, 
the first to be called in time of peace, met at Aix-la-Chapelle in 1818. 
The rulers of Austria, Russia, and Prussia were present, and, in addi- 

8 On the situation in Piedmont, cf. N. Rodolico, Carlo Alberto (Florence, 1931), and 
8. Alison, La vita di Pellico (Milan, 1933). 

» Between 1815 and 1818 there had been sharp difference of opinion among the powers. 
Alexander was anxious to gain the favor of some of the lesser states. Russian diplomats 
were flattering the French ministry and a similar policy was being undertaken by the 
Russian representatives in Spain and Naples. This annoyed Castlereagh and Metternich, 
who feared that Alexander might form an alliance with the Bourbon states in the hope 
being able then to force his wishes on England and Austria. 



tion, Metternich, Hardenberg, Nesselrode, and Capodistrias. Castle- 
reagh and Wellington represented England. The Due de Richelieu, 
though not formally admitted to the conference, was present on 
behalf of France. Alexander had wished to call representatives of 
some of the smaller powers, but the opposition of Castlereagh and 
Metternich forced him to abandon the project. 10 

After extended bickerings, a secret agreement, signed in Novem- 
ber, 18:8, renewed the Quadruple Alliance to guard against France 
again becoming dangerous. France was invited to join a Quintuple 
Alliance which was “consecrated to protect the arts of peace, to 
increase the internal prosperity of the various states, and to awaken 
those sentiments of religion and morality which the misfortunes 
of the time had weakened/’ 11 Projects of disarmament, the first ever 
seriously discussed among European statesmen, were considered by 
the powers at the request of Alexander, but mutual jealousies pre- 
vented the question being brought up again. The tsar then proposed 
the formation of an international army to guarantee the frontiers 
and the existing governments of Europe. The idea was rejected 
brusquely by Castlereagh, more suavely by Metternich. Another of 
Alexander’s suggestions was that a general union against revolution 
be undertaken by the sovereigns who had signed the Treaty of 
Vienna. At first no one bothered to gainsay him. Castlereagh moved 
cautiously because all of his decisions had to be presented to Par- 
liament, where his policies had already been attacked for their 
supposed docility to Russia. One speaker had even painted a lurid 
picture of Cossacks encamped in Hyde Park awaiting orders to 
overawe the House of Commons! At the same time, Canning and 
other members of the British cabinet were raising objections to 
England’s entanglements in continental affairs. Naturally, then, ' 
Castlereagh opposed this scheme of Alexander “to provide the trans- " 
parent soul of the Holy Alliance with a body,” and he obtained^, 
the help of Metternich in blocking it. 

In spite of his efforts to unite the monarchs against revolution, 
Alexander still maintained his liberal ideas. He dreamed of realiz- 
ing them by first fixing all kings firmly on their thrones, and then 

10 On the whole subject cf. C K Webster, The Foreign Policy of Castlereagh , 1815-22 
(and ed , London, 1934), a masterful study 

11 G. Weill, Ucveil des nationalitcs et le mouvement hberal (Paris, 1930)* 3 r *32 


forcing them to grant constitutions on the model of the French 
Charter. The interference of the great powers, he insisted, was to 
be constructive and not merely repressive. The constitutions granted 
would emanate from the royal will and would reconcile all peoples 
to their rulers. The whole scheme was utterly chimerical, and Castle- 
reagh and Metternich were determined to thwart its realization. 
Eventually the two pacified Alexander by agreeing to a vague 
formula about “moral solidarity.” That the Alliance survived was 
again largely due to the skill and patience of Castlereagh. 12 In spite 
of the opposition of some members of the cabinet and of Parliament, 
and the difficulty of making terms with the tsar, whom he rightly 
considered “half a madman,” he had kept in existence the system 
of diplomacy by conference. France had now been admitted to a 
position among the great powers and the Alliance had been 

Certain important details of the European situation had been 
left unsettled at the Aix Conference, and these were passed on to 
a conference of ministers which met at Frankfort in 1819. They 
agreed on a treaty which was mainly concerned with minor terri- 
torial adjustments in the German Confederation and in Italy. With 
the break-up of this conference at Frankfort (the Council of Am- 
bassadors had been terminated after the conference at Aix-la- 
Chapelle), Europe was left for the first time since 1814 without any 
central representation. The relations among the members of the 
Alliance continued to be strained chiefly because of the intrigues of 
Alexander; his, agents were again active in Italy, in France, in Spain, 
and in Germany. In Spain and in the Germanies they were backing 
the reactionary monarchs; in Italy and France, they were favoring 
the liberals. Metternich, who was always inclined to believe the 
worst rumors about the tsar, received a report that Laharpe, Alex- 
ander’s former tutor, had presided over a meeting of the Carbonari 
at Bologna. Exactly what Alexander intended it is impossible to 
discover, though the allied governments were justified in believing 
that much of his meddling was planned to strengthen Russian in- 
fluence in the affairs of western Europe. The tsar’s intrigues were 

12 For the first time in history the press was represented at a political conference; the 
Times and the Morning Chronicle sent special correspondents. 

THE CRISIS OF 1820 163 

a menace to the balance of power quite different from those dangers 
that were soon to arise from revolutionary disturbances, but on many 
occasions they caused Mettermch and Castlereagh fully as much 

The Cato Street Conspiracy in London, the assassination of the 
Due de Berri in Paris, and then the outbreak of the Spanish Revolu- 
tion gave Mettermch and Alexander a great fright, and in the end 
brought about a rapprochement between them. Nevertheless, when 
the tsar proposed a conference to consider these matters, Metternich, 
desirous of keeping both Castlereagh and Alexander in line, hesitated 
to declare himself. Standing by his policy of nonintervention, Castle- 
reagh declared his hostility to this Russian proposal. He insisted that 
the Alliance had been made against France, and that it was “never 
intended as a union for the government of the world or for the 
superintendence of the internal affairs of other states.” 13 The chief 
British objection to intervention in Spain, however, was the fear 
that this might lead eventually to intervention against the revolting 
Spanish colonies where England was developing a very lucrative 

When word reached Metternich of the outbreak of revolution in 
Naples, he was greatly shocked. Although he had earlier agreed 
to Castlereagh’s veto on intervention in Spain, he realized that the 
rising in the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies directly threatened the 
whole Hapsburg system in middle Europe. He varied his metaphors 
from “conflagrations” and “torrents” to “earthquakes,” and he 
quietly began to lay his plans to intervene. Since Austria had a 
treaty with the Neapolitan king, her action there did not involve 
the other members of the Quintuple Alliance. Alexander, never- 
theless, continued to insist on the necessity of calling a conference, 
and Metternich began to yield because, much as he feared and 
distrusted the tsar, he now needed his general moral backing. For 
Metternich realized that, if he could show clearly that Russia and 

13 C. K. Webster, The Foreign Policy of Castlereagh, 1815-1822 (2nd ed., London, 
I934 )j 238. This famous Cabinet Memorandum of May 5, 1820 setting forth the doc- 
trine of non-intervention, merely stated more bluntly the British position since 1815 
Castlereagh concluded by saying, “We shall be found in our place when actual danger 
menaces the system of Europe, but this country cannot and will not act upon abstract 
and speculative Principles of Precaution.” H. Temperley, The Foreign Policy of Can- 
ning, 1822-2827 (London, 1925), 16. 



the other powers were on his side, Austria would be in a much 
stronger position to fight revolutions in both Germany and Italy. 
It had finally come to the choice between acting alone, as Castle- 
reagh entreated him to do, or of bringing the Alliance into the 
affair. A compromise was finally struck; a conference was to meet 
at Troppau, and the rulers of Russia, Austria, and Prussia agreed 
to attend. The British cabinet consented to allow Lord Stewart, the 
English ambassador at Vienna, to be present as an observer; he was, 
however, given no power to act. France also agreed to send an 
observer. The Alliance had been preserved, but in the course of 
the negotiations England had all but withdrawn. 

The conference at Troppau, which opened on October 29, 1820, 
was really a conference of the three eastern powers, Russia, Austria, 
and Prussia. It marked the beginning of that great cleavage in 
European politics which became clearer as the nineteenth century 
progressed. Alexander now assured Metternich that his former 
liberalism had all been a mistake. “So we are at one, Prince, and it 
is to you that we owe it,” the tsar said; “you have correctly judged 
the state of affairs. I deplore the waste of time, which we must 
try to repair. I am here without any fixed ideas, without any plans; 
but I bring you a firm and unalterable resolution. It is for your 
emperor to use it as he wills. Tell me what you desire, and what 
you wish me to do, and I will do it.” 14 

Metternich, who dominated the conference, still strove to keep 
the general question of revolutions, Alexander’s favorite theme, out 
of the discussions. Eventually he found that he could not get the 
tsar’s permission to invade Naples without some general statement 
on this subject. 15 So on November 19, 1820, a famous protocol was 
drawn up. It consecrated the principle of intervention in the fol- 
lowing words: “States which have undergone a change of govern- 
ment, due to revolution, the results of which threaten other states, 
ipso facto cease to be members of the European Alliance, and remain 
excluded from it until their situation gives guarantees for legal order 
and stability. If, owing to such alterations, immediate danger 

14 W. A. Phillips, The Confederation of Europe (and ed., London, 1920), 206. 

15 Alexander was now searching the Scriptures and finding in the stories of Nebuchad- 
nezzar and of Judith and Holofernes, and in the Epistles of St. Paul, divine lessons 
applicable to the existing perils. 

THE CRISIS OF 1820 165 

threatens other states, the powers bind themselves, by peaceful 
means, or if need be by arms, to bring back the guilty state into 
the bosom of the Great Alliance.” 16 

Castlereagh was much occupied with internal difficulties in Eng- 
land which threatened to bring on the overthrow of the Liverpool 
cabinet. But on January 19, 1821, he issued a carefully prepared 
protest in which, while admitting the right of Austria to act in 
Italy, he condemned the claim that the Alliance had the right to 
put down revolutions anywhere. The protest was published m the 
British newspapers and discussed in Parliament. In the meantime, 
the conference had been adjourned to Laibach so as to be nearer 
the scene of disturbance. 

The adjourned conference, which met the second week of Janu- 
ary, 1821, had somewhat more of the character of a general congress 
than that at Troppau owing to the fact that all the Italian princes 
were represented. Its discussions were practically confined to Italian 
affairs, and it was finally arranged that Austria should send an army 
into the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies. Attempts were again made, 
though without success, to persuade England and France to enter 
an open agreement with the other powers. Before the congress ad- 
journed word was received of the outbreak of a revolt of the Greeks 
against their Ottoman masters. The matter was discussed, but 
Alexander, though anxious for intervention in Spain and Italy, 
regarded the Balkans exclusively as a field of Russian action and 
wished to keep Metternich out. No decision was reached. The tsar 
and Metternich, however, did agree that a conference should be 
held in Italy the next year for the purpose of discussing what action 
should be taken in regard to the revolution in Spain and the revolt 
in Greece. 

Austria now had a free hand to deal with the revolution in 
Naples, though it was only with the greatest difficulty that Alexander 
was dissuaded from accompanying the Austrian army. Having de- 
feated General Pepe and the Neapolitan army at Rieti, the Austrian 
troops marched into the kingdom in March, 1821. They met with 
little resistance. Colletta, the minister of war, and General Pepe 
worked furiously to whip their forces into shape. But the revolu- 

10 W. A. Phillips, op. cit., 208-209. 

1 66 


tionary army was badly equipped and poorly disciplined, and a con- 
siderable part o£ the troops were still in Sicily restoring order, 
Ferdinand, who stayed well out of danger in the rear of the Aus- 
trian army, issued manifestoes in which he called on his faithful 
subjects to receive the forces of his allies, not as enemies but as 
friends come to protect them. He threatened with death and con- 
fiscation all who resisted. On March 23, without another blow, the 
Austrians entered Naples. Ferdinand reestablished his despotism 
and called back Canosa as his chief minister. General Pepe and the 
poet, Rossetti, with a few other revolutionary leaders fled into exile; 
others were thrown into prison. The barbers in Naples busied them- 
selves with cutting off the telltale locks and beards of the frightened 
Carbonari. The revolution ended as suddenly as it had begun. 

The Austrian army then pushed northward to extinguish the 
uprising in Piedmont. The revolting forces under Santarosa were 
defeated by the Austrian and Piedmontese troops at Novara, April 
18, 1821. The leaders fled to Genoa; some of them embarked for 
Spain where the revolution was still successful. An Austrian army 
of occupation of 12,000 was kept in Piedmont until September, 1822. 
Count Confalonieri, Pellico, the poet, and the leaders of the liberal 
forces in Milan were seized and sent to the Spielberg fortress in 
Austria. In the other Italian states, especially in Modena, liberals 
were hunted down; many were cast into prison or put to death. 
The pope, in September, 1821, issued a Bull against all secret so- 
cieties, warning the faithful against doctrines which “seem smoother 
than oil, but are naught but arrows which perfidious men use to 
wound those who are not on their guard. They come to you like 
sheep, but they are at heart only devouring wolves. 5517 About two 
thousand Italians left the peninsula in the year 1821, followed by 
about the same number during the next few years. The exiles scat- 
tered to England, Switzerland, Holland, Spain, Corsica, and Greece 
where all, with the exception of those who fled to England, were 
watched by the police and often treated with great indignities. Few 
were the families in the upper and middle classes in Italy which 
had not to tremble for the safety of one of their members. Austria 

1 7 W. R» Thayer, The Dawn of Italian Independence (Boston, 1899), X, 293, 

THE CRISIS OF 1820 167 

was now more powerful than ever in all parts. Thus faded the 
vision of liberty which had passed like the phantom of a dream 
over the Italian world. 

After the conference at Laibach, whose procedure had greatly 
exasperated England, Metternich changed his tactics and began 
again to cultivate the favor of Castlereagh. In Spain, in the Americas, 
and in the Near East the interests of Austria and of England did 
not conflict. Indeed, both governments feared the activities of the 
tsar in these areas. A great duel was at the time going on at Con- 
stantinople between the representative of Russia, who was pushing 
toward a war with Turkey over the Greek question, and the British 
ambassador, who was trying to prevent such a conflict. In western 
Europe a similar struggle was taking place between Alexander’s 
minister, Capodistrias, who favored military intervention, and Met- 
ternich who, having secured the full cooperation of Castlereagh, in- 
sisted that the Greek Revolt must be allowed to burn itself out 
“beyond the pale of civilization.” The Austrian chancellor plied 
the tsar with arguments to prove that the unrest in Turkey did 
not differ essentially from that elsewhere in Europe and that the 
Greek insurgents, like any others, were rebels against legitimate 
authority. Faced with the alternative of offending the pro-Greek 
sentiments of the Russian people or of bringing down in ruin the 
whole edifice of his international program, Alexander chose the 

In the autumn of 1821 Castlereagh and Metternich had an inter- 
view’ at Hanover. Castlereagh, who had strengthened his position 
at home, agreed to attend a conference of the powers to be held the 
next year in Italy. The question of the Greek Revolt dragged on, 
though England, by getting the Ottoman government to promise 
reforms, averted the threatened war between Russia and Turkey. 
The Greek insurrection was for the time being allowed to continue 
without interference. Long negotiations among the powers over 
what was to be done with the revolting Spanish colonies in Amer- 
ica had likewise brought no decision. Much more pressing were 
the affairs of Spain. At Laibach the tsar had declared that Spain 
was the nest of all revolutions, “the tribune to which all the revo- 


lutionists of Europe have recourse, as to a vehicle from which 
they can disseminate their pernicious doctrine.” 18 

Mettermch, having kept the tsar in the Alliance, and having again 
got on good terms with Castlereagh, hoped that some joint action 
regarding the Spanish Revolution would be taken at the forth- 
coming conference in Italy. Before it met, Castlereagh, worn out 
by overwork, committed suicide, and was s ucceede d at the. JJjitish 
forei gn office by George Canning. This “malevolent meteor,” as 
Kfetternich was to call him, was far less interested than Castlereagh 
in maintaining the Alliance. Canning’s ignorance of continental 
affairs, his desire to find markets for British manufactures, and his 
belief that England’s interests were often on the side of revolution 
rather than against it, gave him an outlook different from that 
of his rival and predecessor. On the other hand, Canning’s readi- 
ness to further the dissolution of the Alliance by the gradual with- 
drawal of England was simply a variant of Castlereagh’s fear that, 
in certain eventualities, the Allian^would “move away from Eng- 
land” without her having quit it The Duke of Wellington was 
sent as England’s delegate to the Congress at Verona. He took with 
him for his direction the elaborate memorandum prepared by 
Castlereagh before his death. 

The subjects which, according to this British cabinet paper, were 
to come up for discussion, were wide in their range. There were 
the Turkish-Greek question, the problem of Spain and the fate of 
the Spanish colonies, the affairs of the Italian states, the perennial 
subject of the suppression of the slave trade, and, finally, the situa- 
tion arising from a ukase of the tsar closing the Bering Sea and the 
adjacent American waters to all but Russian ships, against which 
both England and the United States had protested. With respect 
to Spain, England was again to preserve “a rigid abstinence from 
any interference in the internal affairs of that country.” 

When the congress met, October 20, 1822, the Greek question 
had reached a temporary settlement, but the Spanish problem, which 
had grown more acute, and in which the French were now propos- 
ing to intervene, stood in the foreground. The congress brought 
together a large number of rulers and statesmen, and Metternich, 

18 C. K. Webster,, op. cit 343. 



fearful of intrigue and recrimination, hastened to push matters to- 
ward a quick decision. The tsar was anxious to use his large army 
to intervene in Spain. France now had an ultra-royalist ministry 
which was more willing than the preceding cabinet to listen to Fer- 
dinand’s frantic appeals for aid, and believed that a little military 
glory would help the Bourbon cause at home. It had sent an army 
to the Pyrenees, ostensibly to prevent the plague from spreading 
into France, but really to watch political developments in Spain. 
The French representatives at Verona, Chateaubriand and Mont- 
morency, following their private convictions rather than their in- 
structions, began to clamor for the right of the French army to 
intervene in Spanish affairs. After some negotiations, Austria, Russia, 
and Prussia agreed to recall their ambassadors from Madrid and 
to lend France their moral support. A French army was to proceed 
against the revolutionary government. These negotiations aroused 
the British cabinet to anger. Canning sent instructions that, if there 
was a determined project to interfere by force or by menace, then, 
“come what may,” England would not be a party. On October 30, 
1822, Wellington communicated this news to the congress. It fell 
like a bombshell and marked England’s withdrawal from the 
Alliance. Canning’s comment was, “Things are getting back to a 
wholesome state again; every nation for itself and God for us all.” 19 

At the beginning of 1823 identical notes from Russia, Austria, 
and Prussia ordered Spam to modify her constitution, and threatened 
punishment in case of refusal. The revolutionary government flatly 
denied the right of foreign powers to interfere in any way in 
Spanish affairs. Thereupon the French army, which was ready to 
enter the country, crossed the Pyrenees (April 7, 1823) and moved 
on Madrid. A regency was set up to rule the country until the king 
could be freed. At once it began the work of “purification” by 
throwing hundreds of constitutionalists into jail and condemning 
many of them to death. The revolutionary government was moved 
from Seville to Cadiz where finally, by the end of September, 1823, 
the Due d’Angouleme and his French troops stormed the Trocadero 

18 Cf. E. Beau de Lomenie, La carri&re politique de Chateaubriand, 1814-1830 (2 vols., 
Pans, 1Q20). 



markets seemed all the more valuable. After the victory of the 
French forces in Spain* Canning feared that a concerted effort might 
be made to force the revolting colonies back under the yoke of the 
mother country. 

He found that this view was also held by President Monroe, who, 
on the advice of his secretary of state, John Quincy Adams, had in 
1822 recognized the new Spanish- American republics. After some 
negotiations in London, however, the American government decided 
to act alone. In December, 1823, Monroe, in a famous message to 
Congress, declared that the Americas were henceforth closed to 
European colonization or intervention. The knowledge that England 
had designs on Cuba and that Russia was seeking to get recognition 
of claims along the Pacific coast had convinced the American gov- 
ernment that it was time for the United States to take a positive 
stand. At the same time, Henry Clay’s continual appeals in behalf 
of a republican system in both the Americas, always with an eye 
to the recognition of the new South American states, had prepared 
the country to support the president. 21 

The first challenge to the European Alliance by an organized 
state came then from the New World. Monroe’s message was praised 
by the leading English journals and lauded by Brougham in the 
House of Commons. In France, it called forth the praises of Lafayette 
and of some of the leading liberals. The governments of the con- 
tinental states, however, were displeased, though none of them took 
it with sufficient seriousness to protest. 21 Canning was disappointed 
that Monroe's action had not been taken jointly with England, but 
he was pleased because it blocked the program of the other powers. 
In 1825 England recognized the independence of Colombia, Mexico, 
and Argentina, and Canning, not averse to stretching the truth, 
boasted, “I called the New World into existence to redress the 
balance of the Old.” 

In the questions of Portugal, and of the Greek Revolt, Canning, 
a past master at arousing the nationalist enthusiasm of the British 
and the liberal sentiment of Europe, was to carry England still 
further away from the eastern powers, Austria, Prussia, and Russia. 

21 On Latin x\merican Independence cf. C. Iv. Webster on the Biitish side, 2 vols. 
(Oxford, 1938), W S Robertson on the French side (Baltimore, 1939), and A. P. 
winttaker on the American aide (Baltimore, 1941). 



Thus, the first serious experiment in international government ended 
.in failure. It was not, however, without some far-reaching results; it 
introduced the idea of cooperation among a group of powers and 
of personal conference among a number of statesmen, and it estab- 
lished the idea of common interests among the nations. Unluckily 
there never grew out of the alliance any real machinery to prevent 
the great catastrophe that closed the nineteenth-century epoch. 


The strange and often contradictory role that Alexander was tak- 
ing in general European affairs he was also playing in his own 
empire. His earlier liberalism had been largely a matter of vague 
phrases and cloudy aspirations. Only when he had been confronted 
with revolution abroad and discontent at home was he forced to 
formulate a definite program for his liberal ideas. The formula on 
which he finally settled was one which held that, while every 
monarch should grant his people a constitution, none should be 
. exacted from below by the people. As his friend, Czartoryski, said, 
“Alexander wants everyone to be free on condition that everyone 
iwill obey him blindly!” Much of the tsar’s behavior can be explained 
only on the assumption that a strange education and a tragic early 
experience made him intellectually and emotionally unbalanced, 
especially in later life. Metternich once shrewdly remarked that in 
the character of Alexander there was always some element lacking, 
but that it was impossible to tell in advance just what the particular 
element would be. 

In Finland, after 1815, the tsar allowed the constitution that had 
existed under the Swedish regime to continue, with himself as 
grand duke. The Finnish state retained its own laws and courts, its 
own administrative system directed by a native senate, its own army, 
coinage, and postal system. The government personnel was entirely 
non-Russian. Russians were not even allowed to settle in Finland 
without permission from the local authorities. The aristocracy of the 
country and the upper bourgeois classes in the towns were Swedish 
and Lutheran. Swedish was the official language, though a Finnish 
nationalist movement, which proposed to substitute the native 



language, was under way. The constitution provided for meetings 
of a diet, but none was called until 1863. Finland, in the reigns o£ 
Alexander and Nicholas, remained prosperous and fairly contented 
under Russian rule, though in Finland, as in Poland, Alexander’s 
experiment in the self-government of a dependent nation brought 
him much criticism from his own people. 

A much more striking example of Alexander’s desire to pose as 
the great patron of liberalism was the constitutional regime he 
granted to a section of the Polish people who, after 1815, lived under 
the Russian government 22 The constitution, chiefly the work of 
Prince Adam Czartoryski, allowed the Poles to maintain an army 
of 40,000 men and a Polish administrative personnel. The Code 
Napoleon was left in force, and the constitution guaranteed liberty 
of speech, freedom of the press, free right of association, and special 
protection for the Catholic Church. Legislative power was vested 
in a Diet composed of a Senate, named by the tsar as king, and 
a Chamber of Deputies elected by the most liberal franchise in 
Europe. The Diet was to meet every two years for a session of 
thirty days; its debates were to be public. As a whole, the constitution 
was the most advanced instrument of government that existed any- 
where on the continent. 

When put into practice, however, the new regime showed many 
imperfections. The Diet had no control over the army, which was 
kept under Russian command. The tsar, as King of Poland, could 
prorogue, adjourn, or dissolve the Diet at will; he alone could pro- 
pose laws. To make the new constitutional order still more unwork- 
able Alexander never allowed the Diet to discuss the budget. As 
his viceroy in Poland he appointed not Prince Adam Czartoryski, 
who was regarded by the Poles as the logical candidate, but the aged 
and ineffectual General Zajacek. The real power, however, was in 
the hands of the tsar’s brother, the Grand Duke Constantine, and 
the Russian agent, Novosiltsev. Constantine, who was given com- 
mand of the army, had married a Polish noblewoman and seems 
to have liked the Polish people, but he soon made himself hated 

23 The Congress Kingdom of Poland, established by Alexander, included only about 
127,000 square kilometers. There were nearly 500,000 square kilometers of former Polish 
territory that were directly under Russian rule, where the population enjoyed none of the 
privileges granted to those who lived under Alexander's constitution. 



as a martinet. Novosiltsev was appointed by Alexander as “Commis- 
sioner for the Kingdom,” a position not provided for in the constitu- 
tion which in practice tended increasingly to make the liberal 
provisions of the new regime an illusion. Both Constantine and 
Novosiltsev interfered at every point in the administration; every 
week the latter sent a secret report to the tsar. 23 

From the very beginning difficulties arose. Instead of forming a 
civilian national guard, Constantine created a police force directly 
under his own command. He threw out many of the higher officers 
of the regular army and replaced them with his own appointees; he 
also began to spend on army equipment enormous sums which the 
impoverished country could ill afford. A session of the Diet was 
called in 1818. In his opening speech Alexander intimated that he 
intended to annex Lithuania to the new Congress Kingdom and also 
that he expected to introduce a constitutional government in Russia. 
Both suggestions furthered the growth of discontent among the 
Polish population outside the new kingdom. This speech, made by 
the tsar to the Polish Diet on March 27, 1818, marks the culminating 
point of his liberalism; thenceforth reactionary tendencies began to 
prevail. In 1820 a second session of the Diet was held. Alexander 
attended in a mood compounded of mysticism and irritation. The 
year before, the Russian historian, Karamzin, had warned him that 
the restoration of Poland would lead to the dismemberment o£ 
Russia and that, since Poland had been conquered by the Russians, 
its affairs should be controlled entirely from St. Petersburg. Many 
of the Russian aristocrats at court were insisting on the same ideas, 
and were doing all they could to prejudice the tsar against his liberal 
experiment in Poland. 

In the session of 1820 Alexander lectured the Diet on being “carried 
away by the seductions too common in our day.” Led by the deputies 
from Kalisch and the brothers Niemojewski (one of whom in 1831 
published a Polish translation of Constant’s Reflexions sur les con- 
stitutions), the opposition complained of the bad administration 

23 Alexander said o£ the position o£ Constantine and Novosiltsev in the Polish govern- 
ment, “Alongside the liberal principles that a monarch believes he should adopt, he 
ought to establish corresponding means of repression I have given the Poles a constitution, 
but along with this I have created such organs of repression as will make the Poles 
understand that they must not go beyond a certain limit.’* Cf. Pingaud, “Alexandre I, 
roi de Pologne,” Revue d’histoire diplomatique, XXXIII 


I 75 

and of the censorship, instituted in 1819. Nearly every bill presented 
to the Diet was rejected. The tsar hastened to close the session, and 
had it not been for the intervention of the British ambassador and 
of Pozzo di Borgo, he would then and there have abrogated the con- 
stitution. In the administration the liberal, Potocki, who was de- 
veloping an excellent school system and was improving the new 
School of Engineering and the new University of Warsaw, was 
replaced by a reactionary. Other arbitrary replacements followed, 
for all of which Novosiltsev was chiefly responsible, though he often 
had the cooperation of the Polish Jesuits and some of the Polish 
bishops. Public finance, however, was in 1821 placed in the hands of 
a Polish noble, Lubecki, a very competent financier who put the 
public funds in order and through wise administration stimulated 
in an extraordinary fashion the growth of commerce and industry— 
the one happy chapter in the history of the Congress Kingdom. It 
was chiefly owing to Lubecki that the foundations were laid for that 
industrial development which afterward made Russian Poland the 
great manufacturing center for the whole empire. 

The hostile attitude of the tsar toward the Polish Diet and the 
increasing interference of Constantine and Novosiltsev in Polish 
affairs with the purpose of emasculating the constitutional regime, 
as well as the older desire of the Poles to see their former state recon- 
stituted, led to the formation of secret societies in the army. The most 
important of these was the National Patriotic Society, founded at 
Warsaw in 1821 by Major Lukasinski. The organization was copied 
from that of the Neapolitan and French Carbonari; the members 
knew only their local head, who was part of a vast secret network. 
With the help of the police in Paris and Berlin, the organization 
of the National Patriotic Society was discovered. Lukasinski and 
several other leaders were arrested, and were condemned in 1821 to 
sentences of hard labor. 24 The same hostility to the tsar’s regime 
was also manifested in the third session of the Diet in 1825, though 
Alexander refused to admit the leader of the opposition to the 
sessions. After a few meetings the Diet was dismissed; the tsar then 

24 Owing to the reticence o£ Lukasinski during his trial, the secret Patriotic Society 
continued its work. In 1823 it was m touch with the secret societies m Russia, though no 
agreement was reached. 



issued an Additional Act which suppressed the provision of the 
constitution making the sessions of the Diet public. 

The reactionary policy of the Russian government in the new 
Polish kingdom and the memory of the former Polish state aroused 
a nationalist movement among the Poles who lived within the 
Russian state and who had hoped in due time to be incorporated in 
the Congress Kingdom. The center of this agitation was the new Uni- 
versity of Vilna, founded in 1813, where a group of students organized 
societies originally intended to improve student morals but later 
devoted to nationalist propaganda. The most important of these was 
the Philomathians, whose membership included the youthful Adam 
Mickiewicz, destined to be the greatest of Polish literary masters. 
These student societies showed the influence of the German Bur sch - 
enschaften , Polish students having come into contact with the move- 
ment of the Universities of Berlin and Konigsberg. The nationalist 
ideas of Herder were spread among the youth of Poland through 
the writings of Rrodzinski, a professor of Polish literature in the 
University of Warsaw, especially through his Tiber die Klassizxtat 
und den Romantismus (1818), which glorified Polish national tra- 
ditions and the artistic and intellectual possibilities of Polish culture. 

The students protested publicly against the failure of the Russian 
government to incorporate in the new kingdom all the Poles under 
Russian rule and also against the current Russian policy of depriving 
them even of their existing rights. In 1824 the government, at the 
instigation of Novosiltsev, arrested the leaders of the Philomathians 
and transported them to Russia or Siberia, where some were forced 
into the army. The same year several of the most eminent professors, 
including the great Polish historian, Lelewel, were dismissed and 
the university placed under close surveillance, the police being ordered 
to watch the students and the faculty “in class, at church, in their 
dwellings and everywhere else.” When Alexander died in 1825, the 
hopes of Polish freedom were rapidly vanishing. 25 

25 In the Final Act of Vienna it had been stipulated that “the Poles subject to Prussia, 
Russia, and Austria will receive a system of representation and national institutions 
organized according to the type of political existence that each of the governments to 
which they belong will judge convenient and opportune to grant them.” Neither the 
Austrian nor the Prussian go\ernment fulfilled these promises. On the contrary, they 
ruled the Poles allotted to their governments with more severity than they had used 
earlier. Especially in Prussian Poland, an active policy of Germanizing the schools 
and the administration was undertaken. Th* little Republic of Cracow, with 103 square 

2 Liverpool and Manchester Railway, 1 831 . The Station Where Huskisson 

Was Killed 

4. Machines for Printing Cotton Cloth 

.. The Congress of Vienna 
by Isabey 

6. Talleyrand 

7. Alexander 

8. Metternich 
by Thomas Lawrence 

9. Castlereagh 
by Thomas Lawrence 

' : • 

* 1 . 

• *r 

12. Francis i of Austria 
by Thomas Lawrence 




18. The Grimm Brothers 19. Goethe in His Later Years 


22. The Cottage 

by Constable 

24 . When the Morning Stars Sang Together 

by William Blake 

Raft of the Medusa 

by Gericault 

28 . The Vow of Louis XI II 

by Ingres— Salon of 1824 

29 , Faust and Mephisto 

Lithograph by Delacroix hr Goethe's Faust— 1 828 

3i. Neubrandenburg at Sundown 
by Friedrich 

33. Classical Revival-Church of San Francesco n Paola at Naples 

34. Classical Revival— Propylaea, Munich 
Designed by von Kfenze 

. - - . : : ' ' : : 

■: ... :-,a 

35. Gothic Revival-Clock « a Vi „ a in the Thirteenth Century Style” 

38. Idealized View, Owenite Community-1823 


43. Coronation of Charles X sn the Cathedral of Rhi ims 

44 . George Canning 
by Sir Thomas Lawrence 

46. Liberty Guiding the People in 1830 
fay Delacroix 



After 1815 Russian affairs occupied Alexander far less than inter- 
national concerns; the last ten years of his reign form a rather melan- 
choly chapter in Russian history. The Napoleonic Wars had made 
Russia one of the leading European powers and the tsar, aware of 
the fact and proud of it, liked to spend much of his time in western 
Europe hobnobbing with kings and statesmen. Whenever he re- 
turned to Russia, he seemed preoccupied and generally weary of 
life. The obscurantism that had marked his actions since his conver- 
sion in 1812 now descended more than ever upon him, clouding all 
his decisions. Although he frequently announced to his family his 
intention to abdicate, he found it easier to allow things to drift. 
The administration of the state fell increasingly into the hands of 
the brutal Arakcheiev and after 1822 that of the church was in- 
fluenced by Photius, a fanatical monk and a strange holy man, who 
wrote in the third person a life of himself describing in detail his 
combats with devils. Arakcheiev faithfully did everything that he 
could to please Alexander, and went to all lengths to humor him 
and to keep the Russian people from making any disturbance that 
would jar his nerves. After the tsar’s fright over a minor disturbance 
in one of his favorite regiments in 1820, which Arakcheiev falsely 
made Alexander believe was a revolt, it became nearly impossible 
to communicate with the emperor except through his favorite. It 
was Arakcheiev’s passion for detail and his undeniable abdity as an 
administrator that made it possible for the tsar to turn over to him 
the whole management of the Russian state. All the bright hopes of 
reform that had marked the beginning of Alexander’s reign now 
gradually vanished, and the government fell more and more into 
the hands of officials who employed “every sort of knavery, trickery, 
fraud, and embezzlement.” 26 

Arakcheiev, seeing that the tsar was now indifferent, frustrated 
the numerous proposals for social or political reform in which Alex- 
ander had earlier interested himself. It was through the same agency 
that Alexander introduced a system of military colonies, which in 

miles and 90,000 inhabitants, on the other hand, had its own self-government, and the 
Poles who lived under it were more contented than those who lived tinder the govern- 
ments of Russia, Prussia, and Austria. These governments had also promised to bring 
all the parts of old Poland into a free-trade area. This promise was likewise left unful- 

96 V. O. Kluchevsky, A History of Russia (London, 1931), V, 164. 



the last years of his life did most to make him hated in Russia. 
As early as 1815, he had become convinced that the army should 
be established in agricultural communities scattered over the land, 
a plan he seems to have got from the work of a French officer, Ser- 
vane, published in 1810. In these villages the soldiers would live with 
their families under the most severe discipline. The scheme was 
instituted to save money— the army was using about a third of the 
total revenue— and to improve the morale of the troops, though 
neither result was obtained. 

By 1825 nearly a third of the army had been placed in these 
colonies. The discipline, which was extended to the peasants living 
in the neighborhood, became increasingly severe. The whole popula- 
tion, of these military villages was put under a rigorous drill; even 
the children had to wear uniforms. Revolts broke out, but Arakcheiev 
put them down with savage brutality. In the matter of religion, too, 
the government became more repressive after 1815; the Jesuits were 
expelled and the activities of the Bible Societies were restricted. The 
f universities were placed under the direction of one of Alexander s 
closest friends, Prince Golitsin. After 1822 many professors were 
dismissed, and orders were issued to those who remained that they 
were to base all their teaching on the ideas expressed in the Holy 
> Alliance, even to the point of demonstrating in the mathematics 
courses the moral significance of the triangle as a symbol of the 
Trinity. This reactionary policy was extended to the secondary schools 
and went far to undo the excellent educational program that Alex- 
ander had earlier instituted. Finally, Photius, the tsar’s religious 
adviser, was even able to persuade Alexander to dismiss his old 
friend. Prince Golitsin. 

The policies of the tsar after 1815 disappointed many of the upper 
classes who had hoped that he would fulfill his earlier promises of 
liberalizing the government. There was disgust, too, over the fact 
that Metternich seemed to be influencing Alexander to pursue 
j policies contrary to the interests of Russia, especially in keeping the 
tsar from helping the Greek revolutionaries. Some were angry that 
the Poles should have privileges denied to the Russians. The long 
wars and the army of occupation kept in France from 1815 to 1818 
brought large numbers of Russian officers into contact with western 

THE CRISIS OF 1820 179 

European ideas. On their return to Russia they saw more clearly 
than ever before the evils of their own government, and they began 
to consider reforms. As early as 1814 a group of officers had founded 
a secret society, reorganized in 1816 as the Union of Salvation, the 
leading figure of which was Colonel Paul Pestel, a brilliant young 
officer who had lived for a time in Dresden. Its statutes, like those 
of the Polish Philomathians and the German Burschenschaften, were 
modeled on the statutes of the Tugendbund . In 1818 its name was 
changed to the Union of Welfare. The chief result of its efforts at 
reform was the introduction into a few regiments of the Lancastrian 
system for the teaching of reading. 

In 1820 the society was disbanded, but soon three societies of a 
more revolutionary character took its place. The Society of the 
North, under the direction of Muraviev, Prince Trubetskoi, Nicholas 
Turgeniev, who had studied at the University of Gottingen, and the 
poet, Ryleiev, proposed to make Russia into a federated, liberal 
monarchy and to free the serfs. The Southern Society, under Pestel, 
who had become much more radical, planned a centralized republic 
which, when established, would not only liberate the serfs but 
would also grant them lands. The third secret society, the United 
Slavs, with a more restricted influence, was likewise republican in 
outlook. Its program included a design to unite the Slavs of Russia, 
Poland, Bohemia, and Croatia. The directors of these societies, most 
of whose membership was recruited from the young noblemen in 
the army, represented the intellectual elite of their generation. They 
were, however, far more interested in discussing the theories contained 
in their programs than in preparing a plan to realize them. They 
read the writings of Beccaria, Montesquieu, Rousseau, Bentham, 
Destutt de Tracy, Constant, and the liberals of the west, they 
studied the American and Spanish constitutions, and followed with 
an all-absorbed interest the movements of the secret societies every- 
where, so far as they were able to find out about them. The Northern 
and the Southern Societies could not agree on many points, but 
they differed above all on the methods to be employed in accomplish- 
ing reform. Pestel believed in the use of assassination and other vio- 
lent means, while the leaders of the Northern Society had no 
sympathy with such tactics. An attempt to get a promise of coopera- 


tion from the Polish secret societies failed. Alexander knew about 
the existence of the societies, but at first he did nothing to stop their 
growth. They annoyed him, but he said, “I have shared and en- 
couraged these errors, it is not for me to treat them with severity” 
In 1822, however, he ordered the closing of the Freemasonic lodges, 
with which some of the members of the secret societies had 

On December 13, 1825, Alexander died at Taganrog in the Crimea 
where he had gone with his wife in search of rest and health. He 
had intended that his younger brother, Nicholas, should succeed him. 
Constantine, the first in line of succession, had agreed to this, and 
in 1823 a statement of the decision had been deposited in the hands 
of several government agencies. But Nicholas, who was unwilling 
to assume power without a declaration from Constantine, proclaimed 
him emperor at St. Petersburg, while Constantine in turn, pro- 
claimed Nicholas tsar at Warsaw. Nicholas refused to take the throne 
without a formal declaration from his brother. Constantine declined 
to make such a definite official statement, writing, at the same time, 
in a private letter to Nicholas that he had long ago given up all idea 
of reigning. As a result, the throne remained vacant for nearly three 
weeks. In this interval, the Society of the North, thinking the time 
ripe, hastily completed plans for a revolt in the garrison at St. Peters- 
, burg. Their intention was to force the Senate to convoke an assembly 
of national representatives to discuss the question of the disputed 
succession, the details of which none of the conspirators knew. 
Prince Trubetskoi was to act as dictator. One of the conspirators, a 
close personal friend of Nicholas, warned him that to save his life 
he had better abdicate. This warning enabled the government to 
be prepared. 

Arrangements were finally made for Nicholas to mount the throne 
without the formal consent of Constantine. On the day the troops 
were to take the oath of loyalty, December 26 (whence the name 
of the whole movement, the Decembrist Revolt ), the leaders ha- 
rangued the men of the Moscow regiment. They told the astonished 
soldiers, who had not been taken into the plot, that the crown be- 
longed not to Nicholas but to Constantine, and started the cry of 
, “Long live Constantine, long live the Constitution ” which the mea 



thought was the name of Constantine’s wife. For a few minutes it 
would have been possible to kill, or at least to seize, Nicholas. But 
the leaders of the conspiracy failed to act. They had no definite plan; 
each expected the other to decide and waited for someone to take the 
lead. All through a day of bitter coldness, without food, and with- 
out any knowledge of what the uprising was really about, the com- 
mon soldiers in the revolting regiment waited patiently for orders 
from the rebel leaders. None came. Toward evening loyal troops 
were brought in, and firing on the rebellious soldiers, they crushed 
the revolt. In January 1826, the Southern Society led by Sergei 
Muraviev started a rebellion, which was also quickly put down. 

The Decembrists never had any chance of success, for their project 
was the adventure of only a small group. But Nicholas had been 
given a terrible fright — the specter of revolution haunted him to the 
end of his days — and he grossly exaggerated the danger, though at 
the same time he failed to grasp its full significance. Hundreds were 
arrested in the capital and in the provinces, though only a hundred 
and twenty were finally tried. Nicholas examined many of the pris- 
oners himself. Most of the leaders bore themselves with dignity and 
made no secret of their intentions and plans. None were allowed to 
appear at their own trials, and sentences were pronounced without 
any defense being permitted. Five of the leaders, including Pestel 
and Ryleiev, were executed, and the others sentenced to penal servk 
tude or exile to Siberia. “The trial,” says Musky, “was the first acl 
of a reign that made inevitable and irremediable the cleavage be* 
tween the monarchy and the best part of the nation and sealed the 
fate of the Romanovs. It created the legend of the Decembrists which, 
in Russia, was more effective than anything in raising the moral and 
poetic prestige of the revolutionary movement and in giving it an 
almost religious sanction.” 27 

The emperor, however, was so impressed with the abuses in the 
government that he ordered a summary of the facts and opinions 
of the conspirators to be made. “It is necessary,” said this document, 
“to grant definite and positive laws, to reestablish justice through 
more rapid court proceedings, to improve the moral education of 

27 D M Mirsky, “The Decembrists,” Slavonic Remew, IV (1925), 403; cf. A Mazour, 
The First Russian Revolution (Berkeley, 1937), an excellent study. 



the clergy, to aid the impoverished nobility, ruined by loans made 
by the credit associations, to revive commerce and industry, to further 
education in accordance with the status of the pupils, to improve the 
condition of the farmers, to abolish the humiliating sale of human 
beings ... in short, to rectify the innumerable disorders and 
abuses.” 28 

As a result of the Decembrist Revolt and the investigation that 
followed, Nicholas I, while talking vaguely of reform, turned at 
once to the creation of the Third Section, a new type of political 
police which became a terrible implement of espionage and oppres- 
sion. During the next years he gave up the earlier practice of using 
the Russian nobility to govern and introduced so many Germans 
into the administration that one of the highest Russian nobles ap- 
pealed to the tsar “to be promoted to be a German.” Some reforms 
were to be made — the reorganization of the central administration, 
the codification of the laws, some improvements in the status of the 
peasants, especially of those who lived on the crown lands — but his 
reign as a whole was later characterized by Herzen as “the plague 
zone which extended from 1825 to 1855,” and by Michelet, who said, 
“Russia is only an administration and a whip, the administration 
is German, the whip is Cossack!” This was the only aspect of his 
rule that was to be known in western Europe. 


The failure of the Decembrist Revolt completed the triumph of 
the powers of the Holy Alliance over the scattered forces of Liber- 
alism. Only the Greek Revolt, the fate of which was still undecided, 
kept alive the Liberal ideal. Everywhere else reaction was again the 
order of the day. All the revolutions that took place between 1820 
and 1825 had been the work of small groups in the armies; only 
in England was the political unrest directly traceable to economic 
distress. In the continental states discontent had become acute be- 
cause the officers were dissatisfied with the cutting-down of the 
military forces and the replacing of the men who had served during 

28 P. Miloukov, Seignobos, et Eisenmann, Histoire de Russie, and ed. # (Pans, 1935), 
II, 732. 

THE CRISIS OF 1820 183 

the Napoleonic wars by officers of a more legitimist stripe. The 
secret societies, which had been the Instruments of the revolutions, 
never recruited large numbers of civilians; the mass of the population 
remained apathetic or hostile. The revolutionaries of 1820 were, as 
one Pole said of the Decembrists, “a generation without fathers and 
without sons.” 

The lack of competent leaders, the cheap mysteries and rites, the 
vague purposes of the secret societies, and the excesses committed 
by the more unprincipled members, all tended to discredit conspiracy 
before it came into action and to hasten its dissolution as soon as it 
began to operate. The inexperience of the revolutionaries was so 
great that, after the old governments in Madrid, Lisbon, and Naples 
had been overthrown, their attempt to erect a new order broke down 
before any army of intervention marched in. The failure, though 
complete, was not ignoble. As Ryleiev, expressing the ideal of many 
of the liberals of his generation, said, “I am certain we shall perish, 
but our example will remain. Let us offer up ourselves for the future 
liberty of our fatherland!” 29 

29 P. Miloukov, “La place du decembrisme dans revolution de Intelligence russe,” Le 
monde slave, (1925), 341. London and Paris were filled with exiles from the Revolution 
of 1820-5. One Italian exile wrote m 1823, “London is peopled with exiles . . . con- 
stitutionalists wanting a single chamber, constitutionalists wanting two chambers, con- 
stitutionalists on the French model, and others on the Spanish or American models; 
geneials who were deposed . presidents of parliaments that had ceased to be 
and a swarm of journalists, poets, and men of letters. London is the Elysium ... of 
illustrious men and of heroes who have failed.” Times Literary Supplement, 20 Nov. 1937. 

Chapter Seven 


While the frightened kings and statesmen were busy extinguishing 
the embers of revolution, a new generation was coming of age. By 
1824 the majority of the European population had been born since 
the outbreak of the French Revolution, and so had taken no active 
part in the movement. Men of this new generation had not yet risen 
to the highest positions of church and state, but in the 182.0'$ they 
were to be found in large numbers in business, in the professions, 
and in the lower ranks of the political and ecclesiastical administra- 
tion. This younger generation, which had known the bitter conflicts 
of the revolution only in childhood, found many of the stock political 
and intellectual formulas of their elders tiresome and meaningless; 
they began to overhaul the entire inherited ideology of both revolu- 
tion and reaction. Gradually the fear of bloody revolt and the horror 
of war were evaporating; the new generation believed that peace 
and calm could be purchased only by sacrifices too costly for the 
individual and the nation. New schools of republicanism, Bona- 
partism, socialism, and Liberal Catholicism appeared, while in the 
Philhellenic movement romanticism formed an alliance with liber- 
alism. Furthermore, the years of peace that followed Waterloo, the 
first Europe had known for over a quarter of a century, offered ex- 
traordinary opportunities for the development of the arts and the 


The social transformation which had accompanied the political 
upheaval of the revolutionary era had changed the life of the scholar. 
During the eighteenth century learning had been supported chiefly 
by private wealth or by patronage, but after the wars England was 
the only important state where this practice persisted. In France, 
Germany, and Scotland state institutions were becoming the centers 



of research. 1 Paris, though, was still the greatest of all; the best 
scientific work in Europe was done in the College de France, the 
Faculte des Sciences, the Museum d’Histoire Naturelle, and the Ecole 
Poly technique. By the end of the i 82 o’s the German universities 
were developing laboratories and their scholars were beginning to 
publish important studies. The mathematical teaching and publi- 
cation of Gauss at Gottingen and the chemical work of Liebig, who 
was trained in Paris under Gay-Lussac and who in 1826 opened his 
famous laboratory at Giessen, mark the beginning of an extraordinary 
development of scientific work in German universities. 2 

Scholars, however, still lacked adequate means of making their 
results known to each other. Often the same discoveries, made in 
several places at about the same time, would lie buried in the transac- 
tions of some local body. A German, Crelle, began in 1826 to publish 
a mathematical periodical and in the next two decades new journals 
were established for the other sciences. The different departments 
of knowledge gradually became more specialized and the associa- 
tions of scientists came to be international rather than local. At 
the same time, the development of German Idealist Philosophy, with 
its attempt to bring all creation into a single system, forced a separa- 
tion of philosophy and science. More rapidly than ever before, science, 
with its varied and independent methods, was establishing its free- 
dom from a philosophy which attempted to cover all things with a 
vague and nonquantitative formula. The interaction between science 
and industry, too, became more important than it had been. During 
the eighteenth century, the growth of new industrial techniques, 
whereby old industries were transformed and new industries created, 
had furnished impetus to private investigators. But the first quarter 
of the nineteenth century marks the beginning of the modern period, 
in which scientific research and formulation lead the way for inven- 
tion. Engineering, the application of theoretical science, became pos- 

1 Mme de Stael wrote of the scholars of Germany • “They are continually discovering 
new districts in the vast region of antiquity, metaphysics, and science What is called 
stud}* m Germany is truly admirable, fifteen hours a day of solitude and labor during 
years on end appear to them a natural mode of existence.” Mme. de Stael, De V Allemagne, 
Part I, chap. xiv. Southey declared, “there is now more intellectual activity in Germany 
tl an m any other country in the world ” G. Ticknor, Life, Letters and Journals (Boston, 
18 77), I, 136. 

2 The best introduction to the history of science is J. D. Dampier, History of Science 
(3id ed.. New York, 1942). 


sible, and with it came rapid mechanical advances that transformed 

The main outlines of exact quantitative science were taking shape. 
Dalton established the definite combining weights in chemistry; 
and in 1815 Avagadro, an Italian scholar, proposed the famous 
hypothesis which fixed the relation between atom and molecule 
and completed the quantitative basis of chemistry, though the sig- 
nificance of the formulation was not appreciated until later in the 
century. Gay-Lussac, a Frenchman, Berzelius, a Swede, and Liebig, 
a German, perfected methods of exact analysis on which future in- 
vestigation was to depend. Berzelius introduced the present chemical 
symbolism. “So great had been the progress in chemistry that a 
chemist of 1831 would feel more at home with the chemistry of 1931 
than with that of 1781.” 3 Two Frenchmen, Fourier and Sadi Carnot, 
in the i82o’s laid the foundations for the mathematical handling of 
heat transformations essential for thermodynamics, a work funda- 
mental for steam engineering. Fresnel established in 1818 the wave 
theory of light which, with the work of Fraunhofer on the spectrum 
lines, represents the beginning of modern optics and spectroscopy. 

Electricity and magnetism had for a long time attracted interest 
as scientific curiosities, but their obvious importance for chemistry 
and for the investigation of living matter now aroused interest in 
their quantitative aspects. Volt#, had made possible the battery and 
the measurement of electric currents. The discovery of the influence 
of an electric current on a magnet by Oersted, of circuits on each 
other by Ampere, together with the careful measurement of these 
effects by" Ampere and Weber were other decisive steps. Davy and 
Faraday in England founded electro-chemistry. Ohm managed to 
find a stable source of current in the thermoelectric couple and 

f E. J. Holmyard, Mahers of Chemistry (Oxford, 1931), 25. The progress in 
science becomes even more remarkable when one considers the laboratories of the time. 
Wohler describes Berzelius* laboratory at Stockholm: “As Berzelius led me into his 
laboratory, I was, as it were, in a dream, doubting whether it was really true that I was 
in this famous place. Adjoining the living-room, the laboratory consisted of two ordinary 
chambers with the simplest fittings; there was neither oven nor fume chamber, neither 
water nor gas ^supply.^ In one room stood two ordinary work-tables; at one of these 
Berzelius had his working-place, the other was assigned to me. On the walls were several 
cupboards with reagents. In the middle of the room stood the mercury trough and glass- 
blower’s table. The washing place consisted of a stone cistern having a tap with a pot 
under it. In the other room were the balances and other instruments. In the kitchen, 
where the food was prepared by the severe old Anna, cook and factotum of the master, 
stood a small furnace and the ever-heated sandbath.” E. J. Holmyard, op. cit., 241-242. 


worked out the exact relations of potential, resistance, and quantity 
of current, thus establishing the principal electric measurements and 
their fundamental relations. Mathematics, in the work of Fourier 
and Gauss, kept pace with the needs of the new knowledge. 

Parallel to these new conceptions in physics and chemistry, striking 
advances were being made in geology and biology. Geology was a 
new science whose progress was beset with all sorts of fantastic pre- 
conceptions. Among a number of works published at this time, that 
of Lyell, an Englishman, stands out as the most important. By close 
observation of geological processes at work in his own day, he reached 
the conclusion that the long operation of similar processes was 
sufficient to explain how the earth had assumed its present form. 
These conclusions, embodied in his Principles of Geology (1830), 
and the similar views of other geologists were immediately attacked 
by those who held the theological explanation of creation. In biology 
the controversy between mechanism and vitalism entered a new 
phase because of the work of the organic chemists who were be- 
ginning to make the products of living matter in the laboratory. 
Wohler in 1828 produced urea in his laboratory; other artificial 
preparations hitherto found only in living matter were soon evolved. 
In 1827 Baer, by discovering the mammalian ovum, overthrew the 
old theory that every egg contains the complete animal in miniature, 
and thus created modern embryology. Gall did fundamental work 
on the structure and physiology of the brain, though he was also 
responsible for many myths of heredity and brain localization. 

In the field of natural history Lamarck’s speculations led to a 
famous dispute in the French Academie des Sciences between Cuvier 
and Saint-Hilaire. Cuvier, taking the orthodox side, maintained that 
his opponent’s hypothesis of the unity of all species was a limitation 
of the absolute liberty of God who might create independently of 
any law of nature. In defending the Biblical doctrine, he was much 
praised by the theologians of his time, but the future belonged to 
Saint-Hilaire, though not until twenty years later was his hypothesis 
taken up by Darwin and given an adequate inductive basis. 4 On the 
day the news of the July Revolution reached Weimar, Goethe chanced 
to meet his friend, Eckermann, and asked him whether he had heard 

4 Cf. J. Vienot, Cuvier 1769-1832 (Paris, 1932). 

1 88 


the exciting news from Paris. When Eckermann began to discuss 
the political situation, Goethe replied that what he had in mind was 
this scientific quarrel whose significance he considered far greater 
than that of any political upheaval. The greatest result of all these 
scientific changes was the further growth of the belief that there 
was a general scientific method that could be applied in all fields 
of human activity. It was now more possible than it had been in 
the eighteenth century for men to say that ultimately all problems 
could be solved by science. The ecclesiastics began a violent attack 
upon this new faith, this independent source of truth. 

The humanities — archeology, philology, and history — made ex- 
traordinary progress during this period. The conviction was grow- 
ing that the only sound approach to an understanding of the present 
was through a study of the past; that the true explanation of political, 
religious, linguistic, and juristic ideas and usages lay in history. 
Archaeologists continued the slow work of unearthing the past and 
of studying it critically. Improved facilities of travel enabled scholars 
to visit ancient sites; at the same time governments spent large sums 
in extending and improving the museums. Friedrich Schlegel, ap- 
proaching the study of Indian history through Sanskrit philology, 
showed the influence of the civilizations of India on those of the 
west. In 1822 Champollion, after studying the material collected by 
Napoleon’s expedition to Egypt, devised a method of reading hiero- 
glyphics and so unlocked the secret of the history of Egyptian civiliza- 
tion. Sqgieties for Oriental studies, like those formed in the eighteenth 
century by the Dutch in Java and the British at Calcutta, were or- 
ganized in Paris in 1822 and in London in 1823. 

The study of the culture of Greece and Rome, which in the 
eighteenth century had been greatly advanced by the excavation of 
Pompeii and by the critical writings of Winckelmann and Wolf, 
was rapidly furthered in the first quarter of the nineteenth. Ludwig 
I of Bavaria, in 1812, brought the pediment sculptures of Aegina to 
his new Glyptothek at Munich; a few years later the Louvre acquired 
the Venus of Melos. In 1816 the English government bought the 
Parthenon sculptures, which Lord Elgin had transported from 
Greece, and installed them in the British Museum. The reinterpreta- 
tion of Greek history dates from the work of Bockh on Athenian 


economic life and that or his pupil, Otfried Miiller, on the history 
of Aegina. Through their writings a realistic view of Greek civiliza- 
tion became for the first time possible. Rome attracted archeologists 
even more than Greece. The best work again was done by German 
scholars, aided by a succession of Prussian ambassadors at Rome, 
Wilhelm von Humboldt, Niebuhr, and Bunsen. Niebuhr’s Romische 
Geschichte (1812-1832) was the first scientific account of the early 
history of Rome. His work had a great influence on all later historical 
study, for, besides showing the value of a close examination of docu- 
ments and inscriptions, he had grasped the truth that in writing the 
early history of a people emphasis must be placed on political and 
social institutions rather than on events. His view ranged pro- 
phetically over the future of archaeological studies; in 1829 he fore- 
told that Nineveh would be the Pompeii of Middle Asia and that a 
Champollion would arise for Assyrian studies. 

The romantic movement did a great deal to revive interest in the 
art of the Middle Ages. First Horace Walpole in England and then, 
after 1800, Chateaubriand in France, Scott in England, and the 
Schlegels and their circle in Germany prepared the way. After 1815 
the governments of England, of France, and of the German states 
began extensive restorations of medieval monuments, a work of 
preservation in which France took the lead. The completion of the 
half-finished Cathedral of Cologne became a national project to 
which Germans of all faiths contributed. During the Empire Lenoir 
had gathered from churches damaged during the revolution a 
magnificent collection of medieval sculpture which he exhibited in 
Paris and which was visited by scholars and amateurs from all over 
Europe. 5 The collection was broken up in 1816 and the monuments 
returned to their original places, but soon the great state museums of 
Europe for the first time began to exhibit medieval art. The Louvre 
opened a gallery of Romanesque and Gothic sculpture in 1824, and 
three years later the superb collection of German primitives assembled 
by the Boisseree brothers was bought by the King of Bavaria for 
the Pinakothek at Munich. 

Closely connected with the development of ancient and medieval 

E Cf Courajod, “L’influence du musee des monuments franqais sur le developpement 
de 1 ’art et des etudes historiques,” Revue historique, 18S6, and F Rucker, Les origmes 
de la conservation des monuments histongues en France 1790-1830 (Paris, 1913). 



archaeology was the growth of philology. In Napoleon’s time Paris 
had become an important center for the study of foreign languages; 
Remusat published studies of Chinese linguistics and Sylvestre de 
Sacy put the study of Arabic on a scholarly basis. Burnouf, one of 
their students, brought out in 1826 a work on Hindu philology 
which continued the work of Friedrich Schlegel; in 1829 he began 
the publication of the first substantial study on the languages of 
Persia. Linguistic studies were pursued with an almost religious 
enthusiasm in the German universities. The brothers Grimm, who 
had studied at Marburg with Savigny, the historian of Roman law, 
were resurrecting the whole of the German past — folk-lore, law, re- 
ligion, and social institutions— by an extended research into old 
Teutonic literature and legendry. Their enthusiasm carried them 
to the mystic belief that there was a superior folk-wisdom contained 
in the old Germanic stories and legends, and in the end they did 
much to breed an overweening nationalism. They also influenced 
the German literary movements of the first half of the nineteenth 
century; Tieck, Uhland, Arnim, Brentano, and others among their 
contemporaries owed much of their inspiration to the enthusiasm 
for every part of the life-story of the German peoples which the 
Grimms were creating. Another German scholar, Bopp, founded 
comparative philology by publishing in 1816 a work which showed 
the similarities of Sanskrit, Greek, Latin, and Germanic conjugations. 
Raynouard, a French scholar, pointed out the same resemblances 
in the Romance languages, while a Dane, Rask, proved the rela- 
tionship of Latin, Greek, the Germanic languages, and one of the 
Slavic dialects. At the same time, a German scholar, Creuzer, 
founded the study of comparative mythology. 6 

The years 1789 to 1815 had brought more dramatic changes than 
the preceding two or three centuries, and had given to all men a 
new sense of the movement of history. 7 This, in turn, contributed 
to a brilliant renaissance of historical scholarship and writing. After 
1815 vast collections of documents were gathered in state libraries, 
museums, and archives; the most fundamental of them were edited 

0 C£. H. Pedersen, Linguistic Science in the Nineteenth Century (Cambridge, 1931), 
and Karl Francke, Die Bruder Grimm (Dresden, 1899). 

7 An excellent survey of the history of historical writing in the nineteenth century is 
G. P. Gooch, History and Historian/ of the Nineteenth Century (2nd edition, London, 



and printed. The great German patriot and reformer, Stein, when 
driven from public life, devoted himself to inaugurating an extended 
series of documents of German history, the Monumenta Germanics 
Historica, with the motto, “Sancius amor patrice dot animtim” The 
first volume, edited by Pertz, appeared in 1826 but the series is not 
even now complete. The work was so admirably done that the 
Monumenta have long since become the model for countless similar 
publications. In France, the Bourbon government founded the Ecole 
des Chartes (1821) for the training of archivists and librarians, and 
the reorganized Academie des Inscriptions et Belles Lettres under- 
took to continue a number of series of important publications begun 
under the Ancien Regime. Quantities of historical memoirs and 
documents were published; during the fifteen years of the Restora- 
tion nearly three hundred volumes of historical texts were brought 
out. The best editing was that directed by Guizot, who in 1833 
started the great collection of Documents inedits sur I’histoire de 

The writing of history was deeply affected by romanticism, by 
the growing influence of the idea of social evolution, and by nation- 
alist ideals. The historians of each nation, partly through the 
use of documents but more by a glowing literary style, followed 
in the path of Walter Scott and Chateaubriand and tried to evoke 
a living picture of the great ages of past national glory. In Germany, 
Stenzel treated the Franconian emperors and Raumer the Hohen- 
staufens. Voigt wrote a prose epic of the conversion and settlement 
of Prussia by the Teutonic Knights, while Luden, in a long career 
of teaching and writing, ranged over the whole history of the Ger- 
man Middle Ages. In France, Barante published an extended narra- 
tive of the history of the Dukes of Burgundy, in order that people 
might “see the fifteenth century instead of hearing it described.” 
Fauriel, in a work on early French history, contended that, in the 
formation of medieval civilization, the Celtic element was more 
important than the Frankish. Michaud described the glories of the 
French in the age of the Crusades, and Raynouard, drawing a vivid 
picture of the troubadours, proclaimed the supremacy of French 

8 Cf. D. Doolittle, The Relations between Literature and Medieval Studies in France 
from 1820 to i860 , (Bryn Mawr, 1933). 



among the Romance languages. Augustin Thierry, a more gifted 
stylist, wrote a dramatic account of the Merovingian period and, 
in a later work, of the age of the Norman Conquest. The lead- 
ing French master of “historical resurrection” and of nationalist 
idealism, however, was the young Jules Michelet. He began as a 
student of philosophy under Cousin, but his reading of Vico and 
Herder turned him at an early date to historical studies. In 1833 
he published the first volume of his Histoire de France , in which 
romanticism and nationalism are fused in a great literary master- 
piece. 9 The same patriotic and romantic spirit characterized the 
historical work of Karamzin in Russia, Lelewel in Poland, Cantu 
in Italy, and Falacky in Bohemia. 

Many historical works were written primarily from the liberal 
point of view. In the German universities professors like Rotteck at 
Freiburg and Schlosser at Heidelberg turned their historical teach- 
ing and writing into a long attack on the evil ways of kings and 
nobles. Sismondi, a Swiss, in an excellent history of the Italian 
city-states of the Middle Ages, tried to prove that no state can be- 
come or remain great without liberty. The Englishman, Hallam, 
though a conscientious scholar, wrote his remarkable survey of 
medieval history and his account of the development of the British 
Constitution from the point of view of the Whiggism of the 1820’s. 10 
In the course of the same decade Mignet and Thiers in France began 
the historical defense of the French Revolution, and Guizot, the 
ablest of all historical apologists for liberalism, reinterpreted all his- 
tory as the story of the rise of the middle class. According to Guizot, 
the development of the educated bourgeoisie has always been 
synonymous with human progress. In modern times, the upper 
middle class has supported the arts and sciences, and is now working 
to hold the balance between absolutism and Jacobinism. The ground 
won by the middle class in the revolution must never be surrendered 
either to the forces of autocracy or to the mob. The political doctrines 
embodied in Guizot’s writings gave his works an enormous vogue 
in the middle of the nineteenth century. 

9 Cf Introduction to C Jullian, Hxstoriens frangais du XIX 9 sibcle (Paris, 1897), 
Augustin Thierry, Thierry (Paris, 1922 ), and G. Monod, Michelet (2 vols , Paris, 1923). 

10 Cf T P. Peardon, The Transition in English Historical Writing , 1760-1830 (New 
York, 1933). 


x 93 

The introduction of a more scientific method into historical 
studies was chiefly the work of Niebuhr and Ranke. Niebuhr, as 
we have seen, applied the canons of classical philology to the study 
of the early history of Rome and so placed modern historiography 
on a scientific basis. Ranke, a younger man, elaborated a similar 
method for modern history. In a work published in 1824, he recom- 
mended a careful study of documents and an objective approach 
as the first requirements of the historian whose ultimate aim should 
always be to see the past “wit t es eigentlich gewesen ” He founded the 
first historical seminar in 1833; his teaching, even more than his 
writing, determined the course of modern historical scholarship for 
a century, and is still authoritative. 11 


Goethe, Chateaubriand, and Wordsworth were still writing dur- 
ing the restoration, but their places were soon to be disputed by 
a new generation of romantic poets and novelists. This younger 
group continued the denunciation of the rationalistic and academic 
canons of eighteenth-century classicism, and, like the earlier romantic 
generation, demanded the right of free, imaginative expression. For 
their subjects they still turned to the Middle Ages, to nature, or 
to their own emotions, in a word, to anything which the writers 
of the Enlightenment had abhorred. More than ever before the 
names of Shakespeare, Dante, and Cervantes — so unmistakably 
great in defiance of all the rules of Aristotle — were being invoked 
to tie up the movement with that of the Renaissance and to endow 
it with a glorious ancestry. As complex as ever, romanticism con- 
tinued to produce results contrary to those which appeared inevitable. 
But it was evident after 1815, and especially after 1820, that the 
movement was turning away from a defense of the throne and 
the altar to nationalist and liberal ideals. 12 

By 1820 the greatest days of German romanticism were over. 
Novalis and Kleist were dead, E. T. A. Hoffmann and Tieck had 
already published their more significant works. The aged Goethe, 

si Cl. H Oncken, Aus Rankes Friihseit (Gotha, 1922), and E. Simon, Ranke and 
Xegel (Munich, 1928) 

12 Cf. P Van Tieghem, be mouvement romantique (2nd edition, Paris, 1923), an 
#dmiiable introduction. 



until his death in 1832, held court in Olympian grandeur at Weimar. 
Here he received visitors from every country in Europe; from France, 
Benjamin Constant, Victor Cousin, and the sculptor, David 
<T. Angers; from England, a British publisher bearing a posthumous 
letter from Byron; from Poland, Mickiewicz; from Denmark, 
Qehlenschlager; from Russia, Zhukovsky. Kollar, the young Slovak 
poet, brought him his collection of Slavic songs; Quinet sent his 
translation of Herder, Delacroix his lithographs of the Faust story, 
and Berlioz his score of the Damnation of Faust . Goethe still main- 
tained an interest in the poetry of his younger contemporaries; he 
read their penetrating critical treatises — a field in which the German 
romantic movement was easily the richest in Europe — and he found 
much of value in the collections of folk poetry that they were pub- 
lishing. But his sympathies were no longer with the movement; 
“Classic, 5 ’ he declared, “is that which is healthy, romantic that 
which is sick.” 

In the i 82 o’s Lenau, Wilhelm Muller, Ruckert, Eichendorff, 
Chamisso, and Morike continued the great tradition of German 
romantic lyricism, and in Vienna Grillparzer brought out his first 
drama. Heine published his earliest collection of verses in 1822, fol- 
lowed in 1827 by his famous Buck der Lieder . His brilliant lyric 
gift renewed all the old themes of German romanticism, the love 
of nature in all her moods, the fascination of old folk-tales, and the 
glorification of the spontaneous emotions of the heart. After the 
Revolution of 1830 he went to Paris and began to attack the forces 
of reaction, clericalism, the Holy Alliance, and royal absolutism. In 
his enthusiasm for liberty and for the rights of man, he carried 
into German literature the attitudes of Byron. A similar point of 
view was expressed in the early critical writings of Ludwig Borne; 
he and Heine and Gutzkow became in the i83o’s the leaders of 
Young Germany . 

In England, where Scott was now pouring out his historical 
romances, a new generation of romantic writers was coming of age. 
Keats returned to the Elizabethans for his inspiration, and though 
he died at twenty-five, he enriched the language with some of its 
finest lyrics. His friend Shelley, “a man of talent and honor,” as 
Byron said, “but crazy about religion and morality,” was an ardent 



atheist and democrat. His Prometheus Unbound (1820) enshrined 
the old Jacobin doctrines in one of the greatest poems in the Eng- 
lish language. The new orientation of English romanticism is even 
more strikingly shown in the poetry of Byron. 13 In Childe Harold's 
Pilgrimage , in* Cain, and in Manfred , as well as in many other poems 
and dramas, he announced a gospel of boundless liberty. In Eng- 
land before his departure in 1816, and afterward on the continent, 
he took up the cause of the underdog. “I have simplified my politics/ 5 
he declared, “into a detestation of all existing governments.” He 
spoke of the cause of oppressed nationalities as “the very poetry of 
politics”; everywhere he made political discontent and revolt roman- 
tic. 14 Newspapers, periodicals, and memoirs of the time are filled 
with his name, and his poems were translated into a dozen lan- 
guages. His heroic death in Greece in 1824 canonized him as 
a martyr of liberalism and made his name a rallying cry of the 
dissatisfied in every state in Europe. 

The French romantic school of the i 820 *s lagged behind that of 
England and Germany. Mme. de Stael’s De V Allemagne (1813) 
and a translation of Wilhelm SchlegePs study of the drama (1814) 
— works that influenced the romantic movement in every country — 
and Sismondi’s Litteratures du Midi de l' Europe (1813) brought 
French literature strongly under foreign influences. 15 These new 
currents were discussed after 1823 in a number of literary circles 
{cenacles). A new journal of opinion, the Globe (1824), began to 
sponsor romantic ideals, and in a series of literary manifestoes by 
Stendhal, Sainte-Beuve, and Victor Hugo (whose Preface de Crom- 
well attracted the widest attention) a new literary canon was evolved. 
Meanwhile the early poems of Lamartine and Alfred de Vigny, 
the first historical novels of Merimee, Balzac, and Hugo, and the 
plays of Dumas and Hugo had aroused the reading public to a high 

13 Cf D. L Raymond, The Political Career of Byron (New York, 1924). 

14 As one Italian poet wrote, “I never saw the falls of Niagara, nor have I seen a 
volcano, though I have witnessed great storms and lightning has struck near me. Noth- 
ing, however, could equal the emotions I had in reading the verses of Byron; ancient 
and modem wisdom, God set beside Satan and appearing pale by comparison. For years 
I have been able to see or to think of nothing save through Byron 1 ” P. Hazard, “L T ame 
italienne de 1815 a 1830,” Revue des deux mondcs, April 15, 1910, 880. 

15 Cf I A Henning, L’Allcmaanc dc Mme dc Stael et la polevna^e romantique (Paris, 
1929); P. Gautier, “Les deux Allemagnes de Mme. de Stael”, Revue des deux mondes, 
1930; F. Baldensperger, “A la recheiche de Tesprit europeen avec Mme. de Stael,” 
Occident, 1930, and Jean-R. de Salts, Sismondi 1773-1842 (Paris, 1932). 


pitch of excitement. All the forces of classicism in the schools and 
the press opposed the efforts of the younger men. Nowhere in Europe 
did the war between classicism and romanticism become so dramatic. 
It finally came to a battle in 1830 when the classicists tried to drive 
Hugo’s Hernani off the stage of the Come die Frangaise . All the 
young poets and novelists joined in the fray, their ranks being 
swelled by Delacroix, Berlioz, and their followers. The romanticists 
won their cause just a few months before the political liberals de- 
feated the royal troops in the street fighting of July, 1830. By this 
time the romanticists had discovered that their Bourbon rulers did 
not resemble Charlemagne or St. Louis, and that their emigrS 
aristocracy had little of the glamour of old-time chivalry, Chateau- 
briand, suffering from this sentimental disappointment, as well as 
from the shabby treatment given him by the king, had deserted the 
Bourbon cause as early as 1824. 16 Gradually the younger men identi- 
fied their literary aspirations with the political ideals of democracy, 
for, as Hugo declared, “Romanticism is liberalism in literature.” 17 

The romantic movement, as it spread from Germany, England, 
and France across Europe, deeply affected the subject matter and 
the style of every national literature from Portugal and Spain to 
Russia and Scandinavia. After 1820 new romantic works began to 
appear in large numbers among all these peoples, almost all of them 
in a strongly nationalistic key. In northern and eastern Europe the 
influence of German romantic ideals was most clearly marked, 
though these ideals were often spread by Mme. de Stael’s De 
V Allemagne. The Emigration and the movement of armies during 
the revolutionary period, the growth of travel literature and of the 
periodical press — especially the circulation of the Edinburgh Review 
and the Westminster Review in England, the Augsburg Gazette in 
Germany, and the Globe in France — and, finally, the hordes of exiles 
created by the revolutions of 1820 and 1830 helped to stimulate a 
literary exchange among the nations, which became fully as char- 
acteristic of the time as the growth of nationalist and liberal ideas 
in literature. In every country poets and dramatists and novelists 
were turning for their subjects from the life of the Gallicized upper 

M Cf. F. Baldensperger, “Les annees 1827-1828 en France et au dehors,” Revue des 
cours et conferences , 1928. 

17 Cf. J. Marsan, La batatlle romanttque (Pans, 1912). 



classes to that of the common people, especially to their traditional 
customs and national legends. This romantic nationalism which 
was spreading across Europe was still almost entirely of a cultural 
type, but it created an atmosphere exceedingly favorable to the de- 
velopment of the exaggerated political nationalism so characteristic 
of the later nineteenth century. 

In Norway, Sweden, and Denmark, collections of old legends and 
poems were made and an original romantic literature appeared 
in the poetry of Tegner and Geijer in Sweden and of Oehlenschlager 
in Denmark. Zhukovsky introduced the romantic themes in Russia 
and in the iSao’s the young poet, Pushkin, a friend of the Decem- 
brists, wrote his first verses, remarkable for their combination of 
stylistic perfection and fervid romantic sentiment. 18 His great his- 
torical drama, Boris Godunov , was composed in 1825, and between 
1822 and 1831 he worked at the various parts of his masterpiece, 
Eti gen Onegin , a long, narrative poem which bore many traces of 
the Byronic influence. What Pushkin accomplished in creating mod- 
ern Russian literature was being done for Poland by the young 
Lithuanian liberal, Mickiewicz. In his Conrad Wallenrod (1828), a 
stirring Byronic tale of medieval life, he produced a great national 
epic of the Polish people. 19 

Among the Czechs and the Magyars, romanticism evoked a glow- 
ing picture of the past and preached the necessity of reviving a 
sense of national solidarity through literature. Kollar’s Slava's 
Daughter (1824), a tale of the Czech people, and the early writings 
of Kisfaludy and Vorosmarty in Hungary derived their poetic in- 
spiration and their nationalistic ideals mostly from German roman- 
ticism. 20 In Italy, Milan was the center of romantic innovation. Here 
was published, in 1818 and 1819, the Concihatore , a political and 
literary journal like the Edinburgh Review , in whose pages Pel- 
lico attacked Boileau and the French classic tradition. The new 
romantic currents found brilliant expression in the poetry and fiction 
of Manzoni and in the verses of Leopardi, though the strongest 

1S Cf E Simmons, Pushkin (Cambridge, 1937), and O. J. Falnes, National Roman- 
ticism m Norway (New York, 1933) 

Cf. E Iviakowski, Mickiewicz (Paris. 1935) 

^ Cf G ion Faikas, D'e unqarische Romantik (Berlin, 1931). G Korms, Ungarischc 
Kultundeale, 1777-1818 (Leipz.^, 1930), and the biography of Kossuth by O. Zarek 
(London, 39 iw. 


advocacy o£ Italian nationalism was to be found in the work of 
the lesser figures, Berchet, Rossetti, Niccolini, and D’Azeglio. In 
nearly all countries the romantic historical novel, inspired by the 
models of Scott and Chateaubriand, had a tremendous vogue. In 
sheer quantity this type of nationalistic romantic writing over- 
shadowed all other literary types in this period. 

The fine arts experienced a similar reaction against the classicism 
of the eighteenth century. Painting, and to a less extent architecture 
and sculpture, sought out new modes of expression. The fight be- 
tween classicists and romanticists waxed particularly hot after 1820. 
The classicists held that there was a universal type of beauty which 
was the same for all countries; the romanticists retorted that beauty 
differed from century to century and from nation to nation. The 
classicists insisted, further, that painting should concern itself chiefly 
with the representation of the human figure and that form and 
composition were of first importance; the romanticists often turned 
to natural landscapes for their favorite subjects and conceived every- 
thing in terms of light and color. When the romanticists finally 
triumphed, it was evident that they had borrowed much from their 
rivals; their differences now seem less marked than they imagined. 

The earliest manifestations of the new romantic style of painting 
‘were in England and Germany where academic canons had less 
hold than in France. 21 Greater freedom in the handling of light and 
color and movement appeared first in the work of the portrait 
painters, especially in the later portraits of Sir Thomas Lawrence, 
and then in the paintings of a group of very original landscape 
artists, which included Constable, Bonington, and Turner. The work 
of these painters, while it derives somewhat from that of the Dutch 
and the French landscapists of the seventeenth century, struck an 
essentially new note. Its freshness and vitality were due in part to 
an earlier development of English water-color painting. Many of 
the landscapes of Bonington and Constable were first rapidly 
sketched in water-color directly from nature. Turner formed his 
style through learning to paint in the same medium. With its deep 
feeling for the beauty of the English countryside, the art of these 

21 Cf. H. Focillon, La peinture au XIX* cf XX 0 sihclcs (2 vols , Paris, 1927-28), and 
L. Reau, L’art romantique (Paris, isao). 


1 99 

men resembles in mood the poetry o£ Wordsworth. Their contribu- 
tion to the technical development of modern painting lay in their 
handling of color; the paint was often put on in smears, dots, and 
scrapings of the palette knife. The effect was vibrant and alive, 
far removed from that produced by the smooth, shiny surfaces of 
much eighteenth century painting. Outside most of the currents of 
his time was the painter, engraver, and poet, William Blake, an 
artist of the highest imaginative power who overburdened his de- 
signs with a strange, apocalyptic symbolism. 

The German painters were deeply influenced by the aesthetic 
theories of the literary movement, especially by the writings of 
Wackenroder, Tieck, and Friedrich Schlegel . 22 A group of young 
artists, reacting against the classical canons of Winckclmann, fore- 
gathered in Rome, where they formed the Nazarene School. In the 
city of martyrs and popes, the Veit brothers, the Schadow brothers, 
and Overbeck became Catholics, while Cornelius, the ablest of the 
group, though born a Catholic, underwent conversion to a more 
mystic faith. The school revived the style of Diirer and of the Italian 
primitives, and in the name of religion attacked all the technical 
progress that had been made in painting since the sixteenth century. 
Returning to Germany — Cornelius reigned successively at Diissel- 
dorf, Munich, and Berlin — they covered the walls of churches and 
public buildings with vast historical and allegorical frescoes. Like 
the paintings of the English Pre-Raphaelites of the next generation, 
their work is literary in its interest; by turning painting into an in- 
strument for the expression of theories, they ended in an academism 
more lifeless than that against which they had earlier revolted. 
The most gifted of the German landscape painters was Friedrich, 
whose simple and powerful manner was evolved largely by himself. 
None of his paintings was made directly from nature; the sub- 
jectivity of his style often gives his work an eerie effect quite like 
that of some of the poetry of German romanticism. 

The most significant school of romantic painting was the French. 
During the Empire the great collections gathered in the Louvre 
revealed to the rising generation of art students the glories of Rubens 

22 Cf. J. B C. Grundy, Tieck and Range , a Study of tlic Relationship of Literature 
and the Fine Arts in the German Romantic Movement (Strasbourg, 1930). 



and the Venetian painters who, like Shakespeare in literature, had 
achieved superb expression without a knowledge of classical rules. 
With the return of the Bourbons, David, the high priest of clas- 
sicism, was banished to Brussels, and within a few years English 
portrait and landscape painting began to be exhibited in France. 
The road was opened for the development of new ideals of beauty, 
and the younger men gradually threw off the academism of their 
teachers. The first outstanding achievement of the new style was 
Gericault’s “Le Radeau de la Meduse” exhibited in the Salon of 
1819, a painting full of movement and color and an open defiance of 
the tinted bas-reliefs that often passed for paintings in the work of 
the school of David. In the Salon of 1824 Delacroix’s “Scene des 
« Massacres de Scio ” — called by his detractors the “Massacre of Paint- 
ing” — was hung opposite the classical “Vceu de Louis XIII” of Ingres, 
a follower of David. This same Salon included also some excellent 
English landscape paintings, which strengthened the position of 
the French romantic painters even more than did their own work. 23 

A veritable war now raged between classicists and romanticists. 
The classicists accused their opponents of “painting with a drunken 
broom”; the romantics turned up their coat-collars when they passed 
a classical painting lest they catch cold! In the schools, especially 
through the influence of the Academie des Beaux Arts, Raphael, 
David, and Canova continued to be held up as models and the 
classical cause was brilliantly supported by Ingres. His work, though 
often deficient in color and mechanical in composition, was, through 
its matchless drawing, a continuing comment on the chief weakness 
of the romantic painters. More quietly a revolution was taking place 
in French landscape painting. Michel, during the Empire, had begun 
to paint landscapes as he saw them; then came the great influx of 
English influences and, in the Salon of 1824, Corot and Huet ex- 
hibited their first works. Their position was soon strengthened by 
the Barbizon School which during the July Monarchy made French 
landscape painting the greatest in Europe. 24 

In the fields of sculpture and architecture, classicism held its own 

23 The Salons of 1824, 1863, and 1904 are the three great events m modern painting. 
The first featured the work of the English painters and Delacroix; the second, that of 
the impressionists; and the third was a retrospective exhibition of the work of Ceranne 

24 Cf. L. Hautecoeur ed., Le romanUsme et Yart (Pans, 1928). 



until the iS^’s. The Italian, Canova, occupied in sculpture the place 
earlier held m painting by David. Many of his oversized nudes with 
their shck surfaces and their lifeless muscles give the appearance of 
having been modeled from cadavers. Among his followers were 
the Dane, Thorwaldsen, Pradier and Bosio in France, and Schadow 
and Rauch in Germany. David d’Angers, a friend of Hugo and 
Sainte-Beuve, left nearly five hundred medallion portraits of his 
contemporaries. Not until after 1830 did sculpture, as shown by the 
work of Barye and Rude in France, begin to break away from the 
lifeless classicism of Canova. In architecture Rome was the great 
school for a classic, international style. Students flocked there from 
all countries and Roman buildings were pastiched by Percier and 
Fontaine in Paris, Schinkel in Berlin, and von Klenze in Munich; 
even in Russia every great public building or church had to be 
crowded behind or put inside a row of heavy columns. 

The beginnings of the Gothic revival were to be seen in England 
in a number of pseudo-medieval country houses and churches which 
were covered with meaningless turrets, crenellations, and pinnacles. 25 
After 1815 the taste for Gothic bric-a-brac and furniture began to 
spread from England on to the continent. The products of this 
growing craze were often mixed with other incongruous elements. 
At his country home, La Vallee aux Loups, which was originally 
a small brick house, Chateaubriand built a portico supported by two 
columns of black marble and two caryatids of white marble, “for,” 
he said, “I remembered that I had passed through Athens.” At one 
end of the house he added “simulated battlements.” The amazing 
vulgarity of it all never seems to have struck Chateaubriand’s genera- 
tion. The electicism of nineteenth century art was already under 

Music, in its technical development the youngest of the arts, was 
easily swept along by the romantic tide. Germany was still the 
center of musical development; there were to be found the best 
orchestras and choirs, the most intelligent audiences, and the belief 
among poets and literary critics that music was the highest of the 
arts. Over the world of German music towered still the figure of 

25 Cf , besides K Clark, The Gothic Revival (London, 1929)* M. Trappes-Lomax, 
Puqxn, a Mediaeval Victorian (London, 1932), and P. Yvon, La gothiqne et la renaissance 
gothique en Angleterre (Caen, 1931). 


Beethoven, whose style, in its development and enrichment, shows 
most clearly the transition from classicism to romanticism. Bee- 
thoven, however, was now nearing the end of his work, and the 
ablest of the younger men was the young Viennese composer, Schu- 
bert. He died (1828) only a year after Beethoven, but left some 
remarkable instrumental works and over six hundred songs. By his 
settings of the poems of Goethe, Riickert, Uhland, Heine, Muller, 
and other romantic poets, in which the text is given fully as much 
place as the music, he practically created one of the great forms 
of modern music. The legacy of Beethoven and Schubert fell to 
the young Mendelssohn and later to Schumann. In 1821 Weber, 
the creator of modern German opera, presented Der Freischiitz 
in Berlin; two more operas, Euryanthe and Oberon , which inspired 
Wagner’s early style, show Weber’s remarkable growth in richness 
of expression. Like the romantic poets and scholars, he was deeply 
interested in the ancient art and legendry of the German people, 
and in his scores he used, with much effectiveness, melodies in the 
style of the folk-song. With a great career before him, he died (1826), 
like Schubert, still a young man. 

The striking advances made in musical style in Germany were 
taken up in France by Hector Berlioz who, according to Theophile 
Gautier, formed with Hugo and Delacroix “the trinity of French 
romantic art.” 26 His Symphonie fantastique (1830), written with a 
descriptive program, shows his extravagant romantic emotionalism, 
and, in the handling of the orchestration, his unusual originality. 
Berlioz and Weber developed orchestral parts for instruments earlier 
neglected — horns, trumpets, clarinets, and bassoons — and, like the 
romantic painters, achieved a variety and color in their effects largely 
unknown to their classical predecessors. Preferring the opera- 
comique style of Boi'eldieu, Herold, Adam, and Auber, and the 
Italian grand opera style of Rossini, the public was indifferent to 
Berlioz’ work. At the close of the 1820’s the violinist, Paganini, and 
the youthful Hungarian pianist, Franz Liszt, were developing new 
violin and piano techniques which made possible for the first time 

M Cf. L. P. and R. P. Stebbins, Weber (New York, 1940), N. Flower, Schubert , 
(New York, 1935). A. Boschot, Berlioz (Paris, 1919), F. Baldensperger, Scnsibilite 
musicale et romantisme (Pans, 1925), C Laforet, La vie musicale aux temps roman- 
tiques (Paris, 1929), J. Tiersot, La musique aux temps romantiques (Pans, 1930) and 
R. L. Evans, Les romantiques frangais et la musique (Paris, 1934). 



the adequate presentation of the works of the masters and in turn 
revealed new musical resources for the composers. The appeal of 
music, as of literature, was now less to the aristocracy and the 
wealthy patron and more to the intelligent and cultivated public. 
The audiences outside Germany, however, still preferred the florid 
Italian style of opera, concert, and church music, and entertainers 
of the type of Rossini, Donizetti, and Bellini found it easier to make 
a living than did the great composers of the period. Thousands sang 
the airs of Rossini's Barber of Seville (1816) and William Tell 
(1829), and of the operas of Bellini and Donizetti but few knew the 
work of Beethoven, and practically all were wholly ignorant of the 
compositions of Schubert, Weber, and Berlioz. 


The failure of the revolutionary movement of 1820 led liberals 
to redefine their ideals and to consider new programs of reform. 
In England, in both the Tory and the Whig parties younger and more 
liberal leaders were coming to the fore; especially the apparently 
defunct Whig party was being galvanized into new life. This chang- 
ing orientation of liberalism, however, was most clearly shown in 
France, where the failure of the French Carbonari in the years 1821 
and 1822 convinced the opponents of Bourbon rule that they should 
abandon their secret intriguing and should openly defend the Char- 
ter of 1814 against all royal encroachments. The leaders, Guizot and 
Victor Cousin, who had earlier seen the value of such tactics, were 
now more heeded. They made the Globe an effective organ for the 
expression of their ideals. From its inception in 1824, the editors 
appealed to the younger generation. Jouffroy published in its pages 
in 1825 a manifesto for French youth, Comment les dogmes fimssent, 
in which he announced, “A new generation is growing up. It has 
listened and it has understood, and already these youths have passed 
their elders and seen the emptiness of their doctrines.” These neo- 
liberals had no clearly defined program; their chief contribution was 
their penetrating criticism of all existing political systems. The 
keen analysis of ideas found in the Globe gave it a general Euro- 
pean circulation; it furnished Goethe, as he said, “much to think 
about three times a week.” Gradually its adherents broke up into 



different groups; some of the younger men, like Mignet and Thiers, 
continued the defence of the Charter and of constitutional mon- 
archy, though with a less detached attitude; others became repub- 
licans, Liberal Catholics, or followers of the new Saint-Simonian 

Republicanism and Bonapartism, which harked back to the very 
regimes which the older liberals regarded as nightmares, were be- 
ginning to find more followers in all ranks of the population, not 
only in France but here and there all over Europe. 27 Admiration for 
the republican ideal was inspired by the success of the United States, 
by a revival of interest in the writings of Rousseau, and by a new 
interpretation of the French Revolution in French historical writing. 
In 18x8 Mme. de Stael published her Considerations sur la Revolu- 
tion frangaise in which she praised the Constitution of 1791, though 
she was careful to differentiate this early phase of the revolution from 
those which followed. Six years later, Mignet, in his Histoire de la 
Revolution frangaise , the first adequate treatment of the movement, 
showed that it was not an accidental convulsion, and that its work 
was not purely destructive. Still more favorable were the ten volumes 
of Thiers’ Histoire de la Revolution frangaise , published between 
1823 and 1827. Sainte-Beuve remarked later that this work had the 
effect of the “Marseillaise” and made one love the revolution. No 
important new theorist of republicanism except Mazzini, who was 
as yet unknown, appeared during this period, but the republican 
implications of Destutt de Tracy’s Commentaire sur VEsprit des 
Lois (1811) helped to revive the older republican ideals. Since it 
was impossible to dwell on the idea of popular sovereignty without 
realizing its logical possibilities, there were by 1830 currents of re- 
publican thought in nearly every European state. Republicanism was 
particularly strong among the students in Paris, many of whom 
took part in the street fighting of the July Revolution. As the press 
could not in any country outwardly advocate such theories, it is 
impossible to estimate the strength of the movement. 

27 Qumet, as a youth during the Restoration, chanced to come across a book on the 
revolution which he found filled with strange, new words, like Girondists and Jacobins. 
“A single word,” he said, “had now replaced all the others, the word ‘Terror.’ I had 
to have a dictionary for each line, so completely had the language of the Revolution 
ceased to he a living language.” E. Quinet, Histoire*, de mes tdSes (Paris, 1858), 75-76. 
Cf. G. de Ruggiero, History of European Liberalism (Oxford, 1927). 



The growth of Bonapartism is still harder to define. 28 In France 
it spread from the army and still more from the former soldiers 
of the Empire, now forced into retirement, into various classes of 
the population. It gathered force from a flood of memoirs, some 
of which came from Napoleon’s circle at St. Helena, that Promethean 
background which his foes had unwittingly furnished for the clos- 
ing scene of his career. After his death m 1821, literary men like 
Beranger, and towards 1830 Victor Hugo and Stendhal, began to 
praise Napoleon, while during the whole of the Restoration quanti- 
ties of cheap lithographs and imperial bric-a-brac were being sold 
among the French people. From all these sources the legend was 
arising of a Napoleon who was a supporter of religion, the cham- 
pion of the principles of the French Revolution, a lover of peace, 
and the symbol of French national glory. By a deliberately eclectic 
process, part of his career was brought into prominence, and the 
rest of it was discreetly relegated to obscurity. Thus in France Bona- 
partism came to be mingled vaguely with republicanism, with 
patriotism, and, finally, with romanticism. The rule of Napoleon, 
which had seemed so tyrannical at home, had been regarded as 
revolutionary abroad. In Poland, Italy, Germany, and Spain the 
basis of this vague Bonapartisi enthusiasm lay not so much in an 
understanding of Napoleon’s achievements as in the liberals’ re- 
membrance of him as the enemy of their hated and despised masters 
and, after 1815, of the ideals of the Holy Alliance. 

It was in the years after 1820, when republicanism and Bona- 
partism were beginning to take root among the people here and 
there in Europe, that the leaders of business and banking grew more 
disaffected. Weary of war and economic chaos, they had welcomed 
the return of peace in 1815, but now, as prosperity returned, their 
dissatisfaction with the repressive policies of the governments grew 
apace. The ideas and political activities of bankers like Laffitte and 
manufacturers like Ternaux in France, of business men like Huskis- 
son and Brougham in England, and of economists like Ricardo and 
List show very clearly the growing strength of the alliance between 
business interests and liberal political principles during the 1820’s. 

33 The significance of the Bonapartist movement has been variously estimated. A good 
introduction is J. Deschamps, Sur la legende de Napoleon (Paris, 1931). 


In Italy this identification o£ capitalist interests and liberal ideas 
was combined with a strong nationalism. The group which in 1818 
had founded the Conciliatore in Milan believed that to achieve a 
strong and united Italy it was first necessary to regenerate the coun- 
try economically and culturally. The Conciliatore was given up in 
1819 under the persecutions of the Austrian government, but many 
of its ideas were revived in the Annali Universali di Statistical 
directed, after 1827, by Romagnosi. The Antologia, founded in 
Florence in 1821 in imitation of the Edinburgh Review, proposed 
“to make Italy know itself, to bring before Italians a national and 
not a municipal ideal.” In all these reviews, but especially in the 
Annali , the articles, which covered a wide range of subjects, stressed 
the need of better roads and canals, free ports and the removal of 
tariff barriers, steam navigation, insurance companies, modern 
banks, uniform systems of weights, measures, and coinage, agricul- 
tural societies, model farms, public schools, and a national literature 
and intellectual culture. The movement brought together young 
nobles and business men of a generation excluded from the political 
scene except on the few occasions when they rushed in only to 
make martyrs of themselves. The different currents of Italian liberal 
thought in the i 82 o’s are interestingly shown in the fact that while 
Mazzini wrote his first essay for publication on the patriotism of 
Dante, Cavour wrote first on model farms. Back of all this propa- 
ganda, however, was the idea that once the social, economic, and 
intellectual conditions of Italy were improved, a political regenera- 
tion would be inevitable. 

The drift toward liberalism in the course of the 1820’s was not 
only affecting new peoples and new layers of the population; its 
ideals began to infiltrate even the Catholic Church. Without wishing 
to change its religious dogmas, some Catholic leaders hoped to get 
ecclesiastical support for the freedom of the press and of education 
and for liberating oppressed nationalities. O’Connell united the 
Catholic forces of Ireland to work for Catholic Emancipation; in 
Belgium the Comte de Merode and others were having striking 
success in rallying the Catholics against the rule of the King of 
Holland. These two instances of the church turning against the 
established government, and disgust with the ultra-Catholic policies 



of Charles X in France, converted Lamennais to the idea that the 
church was making a great mistake in attaching its cause to the 
dying cause of kings. 20 His Progress de la Revolution ei de la lutte 
contre Veglise of 1829, written with all the eloquent power of his 
earlier works,* was a call to the French Catholic Church to desert 
the hated Bourbons and to ally itself with the rising forces of democ- 
racy. “Instead of trembling before liberalism,” he said, “let us 
Catholicize it!” This bold doctrine found little acceptance at the 
time, but in the fall of 1830 Lamennais and a group of his followers, 
which included Montalembert and Lacordaire, began to publish 
L Avenir, a journal which in the next two years attracted attention 
all over Europe. With a motto of “Dieu et Liberte,” it championed 
freedom of conscience, freedom of the press, disestablishment, and 
universal suffrage — a program completely in contradiction to papal 
policy. “We belong,” said Montalembert, “to a new generation whose 
motto is to love freedom more than anything else in the world, and 
the Catholic religion even more than freedom.” 30 

Philhellenism, the most striking movement in European opinion 
in the years following the downfall of Napoleon, is the clearest 
indication of the revival of liberalism. 31 After the outbreak of the 
Greek Revolt in 1821, its earliest sympathizers in western Europe 
were scattered groups of liberals in Germany, France, and England. 
At a time when it was impossible to cry “Long live Liberty,” those 
who were disaffected were quick to see the advantages of shouting 
“Long live the Greeks!” Committees began to be formed to collect 
funds to help these insurgent Christians, the descendants of the 
race of Plato and Pericles, who, despite all the principles of the 
Holy Alliance, were so valiantly fighting for their freedom. As the 
movement gathered force, literary romanticists, like Chateaubriand 
and Hugo in France, Uhland and Muller in Germany, and Byron 
and Shelley in England, helped to fan the flames. 

The war, which Metternich regarded with cold disdain, “appealed 
to every fiber of the romantic nature. It was heroic, it was dazzling 

29 The literature on Lamennais is very extensive; c£ especially F Duine, La Mennais 
(Paris, 19 22), and V. Giraud, La vie tragique de Lamennais (Pans, 1931) 

30 R. Soltau, French Political Thought in the Nineteenth Century (London, 1931), 83. 

81 The best introduction to Philhellenism is in A Stern, Geschichte Europas, i8x$~ 

1871 (new edition, Stuttgart, 1913), II. 


with Oriental color,” and, being a struggle between the Cross and 
the Crescent, it recalled the Crusades and the Middle Ages. 32 More- 
over, to a generation trained in classical studies, the cause of the 
race of Pericles became a holy cause. “We are all Greeks,” wrote 
Shelley. “Our laws, our literature, our religion, our arts, have their 
roots in Greece. But for Greece, Rome would have spread no 
illumination with her arms and we might still have been savages 
and idolaters.” In the heat of this Philhellenic excitement, roman- 
ticism was deserting its earlier alliance with the throne and the altar 
and was embracing the ideals of liberty. The kings of Wurttemberg, 
Bavaria, and France, as well as the pope, contributed money. Reac- 
tionary governments like the Prussian were obliged to let the 
propaganda and the collection of funds go on. Even in America 
Greek committees were formed and the cause was praised by Presi- 
dent Monroe and by Daniel Webster. Eynard, a philanthropist of 
Geneva, became the collecting and distributing agent for the con- 
tributions that streamed in. The pressure became so strong that 
finally the governments of England, France, and Russia broke away 
from the reactionary program of Metternich and intervened to help 
the Greeks. The significance of Philhellenism lay in the fact that, 
while reaction still prevailed in domestic affairs and while the 
memory of interventions in Italy and Spain was still fresh in men’s 
minds, a general European public opinion was reborn and was per- 
meated by a great liberal ideal. 


At the extreme left of the liberal forces were a number of iso* 
lated thinkers who were developing some of the doctrines of modern 
socialism. They believed that only the upper and middle layers of 
the bourgeoisie had been benefited by the overthrow of the old order. 
They saw that there was arising, as a result of the extension of the 
factory system, a class of wage-slaves for whom the new regime 
was more oppressive than the old. The commercial crises of 1815, 
1818, and 1825 brought acute sufferings to these factory- workers 
and showed more clearly than ever before the abuses of the new 

88 A. Guerard, Reflections on the Napoleonic Legend (New York, 1934), 29. 



The period after Waterloo began with the economic doctrines 
of laissez-faire in full possession of the field. Slowly there appeared, 
first in the writings of Sismondi in France and of the Ricardian 
Socialists in England, then in the work of Robert Owen, Fourier, 
and the Saintr-Simonian School, a criticism of the abuses of private 
property which developed into schemes of full-fledged communism. 
Some of this early pre-socialist and socialist theorizing was in har- 
mony with the tenets of liberalism. Owen and Fourier, for example, 
set up an ideal of individual happiness and “the greatest good of 
the greatest number.” All were strenuous in their defense of per- 
sonal liberties in religion, education, and the press. They went 
beyond the liberals, however, in retaining the great faith in human 
nature which was the basis of the gospel of Rousseau, and the belief t 
in progress which had inspired the philosophes. Moreover, they dif- 
fered from the liberals in their general indifference to political 
reform. A better society, they believed, was to be built, not through 
the ballot box but through a complete reorganization of the meth- 
ods of production and distribution. These social radicals of the early 
nineteenth century worked independently. 33 Even when they knew 
of one another’s theories, they usually disagreed. 

Sismondi noticed that, while the total national wealth in Eng- 
land and France was rapidly increasing, the workers were sinking 
into greater wretchedness. In his Nouveaux principes d’economie 
politique (1819) he attacked Say’s identification of the national 
wealth with national welfare. “The earnings of an entrepreneur,” 
he wrote, “sometimes represent nothing but the spoliation of the 
workers.” 34 He stopped short of socialism and did not look for 
an overthrow of capitalism; his remedy for the exploitation of 
the workers was government regulation. He was, nevertheless, one 
of the first thinkers to maintain that the Industrial Revolution was 
dividing modern society into two classes, the capitalists and the 
proletariat, and that the intermediary ranks would tend to dis- 

Useful surveys of the history of socialism are M. Beer, Allgemeine Geschichte des 
Sosialismus (2 vols., Berlin, 1932*23), and H. W. Laidler, History of Socialist Thought 
(New York, 1927). 

84 Sismondi, op. cit ., (2nd edition, Paris, 1827), I, 92. Cf. M. Tuan, Sismondi as an 
Economist (New York, 1927). 1 



appear. A group of his followers in France, Fodere, Villeneuve- 
Bargemont, and Buret, supported his theories with elaborate statis- 
tical studies, which were used later by Louis Blanc and Pierre Leroux 
as an arsenal for an assault on the whole capitalist order. 

In England similar criticisms of the abuses of the new industrial 
order were being made by some of the radical contemporaries and 
disciples of Ricardo. 35 Ricardo was an orthodox follower of Smith, 
but in his systematic analysis of land, labor, and capital, society stood 
revealed not as a community with common interests, but as an un- 
stable combination of warring elements in which the interests of one 
part were often opposed to those of another. Especially in his em- 
phasis on the part played by labor in creating value and on the social 
nature of rent, Ricardo forged implements that the Radicals— 
Charles Hall, William Thompson, and Thomas Hodgskin — were 
not slow to use. Most of their w r ork was done in or around 1825, a 
year of depression, when the Owenite idea of cooperation was be- 
ginning to absorb the interest of a part of the working classes. The 
influence of Owen as well as that of Ricardo is evident in the writ- 
ings of these so-called Ricardian Socialists. Hall viewed the entre- 
preneur as a lender of capital at usurious rates to producers 
(workers). As a result, there was arising an irreconcilable conflict 
between two classes, the one enriching itself through exploitation, 
the other aspiring toward a just reward for its labor. Hodgskin, a 
friend of Francis Place and an advocate of trade-unions, was one of 
the founders of the London Mechanics’ Institute and the editor of 
the Mechanics ? Magazine . His Labor Defended against the Claims 
of Capital (1825), like Thompson’s Inquiry into the Principles of 
Wealth (1824) — the most original work of the school — was directed 
toward proving the injustice of unearned income. Both writers in- 
sisted on what Marx was later to call “the labor theory of value.” 
These Ricardian Socialists did not work out a doctrine of state 
socialism, any more than did the followers of Sismondi in France. 
They did, however, clearly show the injustices of the economic 
system as it then existed. 

The real founder of British socialism was Robert Owen. He was 
not an obscure writer like the other radical theorists of the time, 

86 Cf. H. L. Beales, The Early English Socialists (London, 1933). 



but one o£ the most successful manufacturers in Europe. For that 
reason his ideas attracted wide attention not only among the workers 
but also among the governing classes. All his doctrines were based 
on the belief, which he never tired of repeating, that men are made 
by their environment. To improve the environment the most urgent 
need was to get rid of profit and to substitute cooperation, thus 
reducing “all that gives rise to that inordinate desire for buying in 
the cheapest market and selling in the dearest.” His own age, 
though disturbed by his attacks on Christianity and his views on 
marriage, was interested in his great social exhibition, New Lanark 
in Scotland. Here, out of a miserable factory town, he created a 
model community. Cleanliness, order, and comfortable homes gradu- 
ally replaced filth and wretchedness. All children between the ages 
of five and ten years were sent to school, the hours of labor were 
reduced from seventeen to ten a day, and a store was opened where 
the workers could buy at little more than cost. Owen tried to effect 
reforms through Parliament, but, being only partially successful, 
he later attempted to found other communities like New Lanark. 
The perfect community, he believed, would consist of from 500 
to 3,000 people settled on a tract of from 1,000 to 1,500 acres. Its 
members would carry on various occupations so that it would be, 
as nearly as possible, self-sufficing. He believed in private property 
and in machine production, but both should be used to promote 
human welfare. Cooperative communities might be established by 
private individuals or by the state, and, as they multiplied, might 
be united until finally the whole world came within their embrace. 

Tories like Lord Liverpool, Evangelicals like Wilberforce, and 
economists like Ricardo denounced Owen’s plans, but his books— 
the New View of Society (1813) and The Boo\ of the New Moral 
World (1820) — and his achievement at New Lanark brought him 
a following among the workers. Fie helped to found, in 1831, the 
National Union of the Working Classes, an organization that tried 
to bring together all the British trade-unions. This proved to be 
less enduring than his influence on the growth of cooperative stores* 
of which there were, by 1831, three hundred in Britain. His indict- 
ment of the social order for its waste and injustice and its crises 
of unemployment, and his emphasis on the value of education and 



the possibilities of social well-being are both reflected in the later 
history of British education, trade-unionism, and social legislation. 36 

Fourier, though a man of totally different experience and tempera- 
ment, was elaborating somewhat similar ideas in France. He at- 
tacked the social evils which resulted from competitiofi, speculation, 
and the profit system. Society was totally maladjusted for the proper 
development of man’s nature, to the understanding of which Fourier 
thought he possessed the secret. Like Owen he did not aim at a 
reorganization of society from the center, but at the creation of small 
co-partnership communities, phalanges , which, if increased in num- 
ber, would slowly produce a complete social transformation. Mem- 
bership in these communities was to be entirely voluntary; indeed, 
in all his schemes, Fourier was so anxious to give the individual 
free development that he is sometimes classed as an anarchist. Capital 
was to receive four-twelfths, labor five-twelfths, and “talent” (man- 
agement) three-twelfths of the income. He differed from Owen in 
emphasizing agriculture and handicrafts rather than manufactures 
as the main concerns of his ideal community. The promotion of the 
worker to the rank of a property owner by giving him a stake in 
the community would remove the ancient antagonisms of master 
and servant and would free men from the necessity of doing uncon- 
genial work. Like Owen he never aimed at the abolition of property, 
but at a juster cooperation of capital and labor and at the creation 
of a new type of social environment. There is much of the utterly 
fantastic in his writings, but buried in them, especially in his 
Nouveau monde indastriel (1828-29), there is a great deal of pro- 
found insight. 37 

Far better known in France were his contemporaries, the Saint- 
Simonians. Saint-Simon, the founder of the school, after an extra- 
ordinary career in war, politics, and business, spent his later years 
in criticizing the social order. In a series of confused essays, but 
especially in his Du systeme industriel (1821) and Nouveau Chris - 
tianisme (1825), he developed the idea that the old social and eco- 
nomic order, which was “Christian and feudal,” was giving way 
to an industrial order. This new society would not be used by a 

30 Cf. G D H. Cole, The L ; fe of Robnt Owen (2nd ed , London, 1930). 

37 Cf. E. S. Mason, “Foiuier and Anarchism,” Quarterly Journal of Economics* 1928. 



few men to exploit their fellows, but all would join together, under 
the direction of scientists, engineers, and industrialists, to exploit 
nature. 38 Although the main emphasis of Saint-Simon’s thought was 
laid on the necessity of developing industrial production, out of 
some of his ideas a group of his followers, among them Enfantin 
and Bazard, evolved a system of communism. 39 The leaders of the 
Saint-Simonian School attacked the whole fabric of laissez-faire 
economics and declared that society must control the machinery 
of production as well as the distribution of wealth. To accomplish 
these revolutionary changes they depended, as did all their radical 
contemporaries, on persuasion, not on violence. The passing of laws 
would abolish inheritance and would gradually arrange the taking- 
over of private property by the state. Everything would thus eventually 
come under government control. Men would work in coopera- 
tion, and the state would see that rewards would go “to each accord- 
ing to his capacity . . . and according to his works.” 40 

Among these scattered and isolated radical theorists, only Robert 
Owen attracted much public recognition or aroused an interest 
among the industrial workers, for, prior to 1830, it was only in Eng- 
land that a large working class had become sharply separated from 
the rest of society. The debates in the English Parliament and in 
the French Chambers showed that the governing classes had no con- 
ception of the extent of social misery or of the nature of the new 
social problem that industrialism was creating. Even a fiery liberal 
like General Foy, though he could make the French Chamber of 
Deputies ring with his denunciations of the king and the Jesuits, 
always regarded the discussion of these new social ideals as a tire- 

38 Cf. Saint-Simon, a special number of Revue d’histcrire cconomique et so dale, 1925. 

30 Auguste Comte, for a few years the secretary of Samt-Simon, drew most of the 
ideas of his positivism from the teaching of his master, though this influence belongs 
entirely to a later time. Like his master, and indeed like nearly all the theorists of the 
time on both conservative and liberal sides, he worked out an elaborate interpretation of 
history to prove the necessity of his ideas In the first half of the nineteenth century 
no theory of ait, literature, politics, or society seems to have been possible without an 
appeal to history. These appeals, which were used in almost infinite variety, were usually 
to some historical past that never existed as the Hegels, the Comtes, the Hugos, and 
the Schlegels conceived it. Cf. H. Gouhicr, La jeunesse de Comte et la formation du 
positivism-e (Pans, 1933) 

40 The clearest statement of the doctrine of the Samt-Simonians is in Bazard and 
Enfantm’s Doctrine de Samt-Simon, Exposition, Premibre Anncc, 1829 The school 
broke up m 183 2, though its influence continued Cf S. Charlety, Histcnre du Saint- 
Simonisme (and. ed , Paris, 1931), H R d’Allemagne, Lcs Samt-Stmomens (Paris, 


Chapter "Eight 



By 1820 militant radicalism in England had been suppressed. But the 
ministry, because of its repressive policy, was in disrepute. The events 
which tipped the balance of public opinion against it and prepared 
the way for its reorganization were connected with the attempt of 
the cabinet to obtain a divorce for George IV. 1 The new king, 
though a clever man, had made himself contemptible by his de- 
bauchery and by his shameless treatment of friends and relatives. 
In 1795 he had married Caroline of Brunswick; within a year they 
had separated. For a time the princess lived in seclusion in England, 
but in 1814 she moved to the continent. On George IV’s accession 
to the throne, she returned to take her position as queen. The king 
would have none of her and persuaded the ministry to institute 
divorce proceedings. 

Although Caroline was a frivolous and unattractive woman whose 
conduct had not been discreet, the public championed her cause with 
indiscriminate enthusiasm. From her landing in England to her 
arrival in London, crowds everywhere acclaimed her. For several 
months there were popular demonstrations in her honor and against 
the king and the ministry. Lord Brougham defended her in the 
divorce proceedings before the House of Lords, where the king pro- 
duced a number of paid witnesses from the continent. The divorce 
was passed by the House of Lords, but with a majority of only 
nine votes. The cabinet now found itself more nearly in collision 
with the whole nation than had any government since the days 
of George III and Lord North. Afraid of the results, the ministry 
did not dare carry the case to the Commons for final decision. At 

1 Cf . W D Bowman, The Divorce Case of Queen Caroline (London, 1930), Shane 
Leslie, George IV (London, 1926), E B Chancellor, The Rcaency Rakes (London, 
1925), and, by the same authoi, Life in Regency and Early Victorian Times (London, 



21 6 


George IV’s coronation, Caroline tried in vain to get into West- 
minster Abbey. Less than a month later the dilemma was cut short 
by her death, but the scandal had weakened the position of the 
cabinet more than had its repressive measures at home or its en- 
tanglement with the Holy Alliance abroad. The elections of 1820, 
however, made it possible for the ministry to maintain itself a while 

Gradually the pressure of the more moderate groups that de- 
manded reform began to make itself felt. Bentham’s Radicalism 
not Dangerous (1820) showed clearly that changes in the existing 
social and political order could be made without violence, and even 
without serious disturbance. His ideas were defended in Parliament 
by Hume, and by the wealthy and democratic member from 
Westminster, Sir Francis Burdett. Outside Parliament, they were 
held by growing numbers of business men and bankers who could 
in no wise be considered revolutionaries. At the same time both 
the old parties, the Whigs and the Tories, began to break up into 
factions. Some of the Whigs rallied about a new leader, Lord John 
Russell, a member of one of the great noble families and a liberal 
of the highest respectability. From the Tory ranks there now came 
to the front a less reactionary group — the economist, Robinson, after 
1823 the chancellor of the exchequer, Huskisson, whom Canning 
was soon to make president of the board of trade, Canning himself, 
who had withdrawn from the cabinet in 1820 because he disagreed 
with his colleagues on the matter of the king’s divorce, Lord 
; Palmerston, who announced that it was time to abandon “the old, 
\ stupid Tory party,” and the brilliant young capitalist, Robert Peel, 
who, though an enemy of Canning, was dissatisfied with the tradi- 
> tional Tory policies. 

In 1822 the suicide of Castlereagh brought Canning into the cabi- 
net as secretary for foreign affairs and as leader of the House of 
Commons; Peel became secretary for home affairs, and Huskisson 
joined the cabinet soon after. The accession of these three and of 
several others caused a change of policy in the Tory ministry of 
Lord Liverpool as decisive as if an entirely new cabinet had been 
formed. Canning, the leader of these dissenting Tories, was con- 
vinced of the danger of delaying necessary changes; with the aid 


of some colleagues who shared his opinions, he began to project 
reform. It was soon evident that the economic and political outlook 
of these new Tory leaders was very different from that or the squires 
and country parsons who composed the majority of the party. 

The first break in the policy of repression that had prevailed 
since 1815 was the passage of a series of acts (1822-1829) reforming 
the criminal code by reorganizing court procedure and abolishing 
one hundred penalties which involved a death sentence. Before these 
reforms were made, over two hundred offenses were punishable 
with death; picking a pocket and stealing as little as five shillings 
from a shop were capital crimes. Juries were unwilling to convict — 
of 655 persons indicted for shoplifting between 1805 and 1807, 103 
had been sentenced to death, but in no case had the penalty been 
inflicted. The result of this wretched lack of law-enforcement, as 
Bentham and others had long been insisting, had been the steady 
increase of crime. With more enforceable laws on the statute books 
and with a new police force established by Peel in 1829, the British 
administration of justice became the best in Europe. Peel also abol- 
ished the government’s use of agents provocateurs and tried to break 
the long connection of Tory rule with repression. It was, however, 
the humanitarian aspect of these legal changes which appealed to 
the popular imagination and which, during the next two decades, 
led to the passage of a series of similar reforming acts. At the same 
time Canning, though following Castlereagh’s foreign policies more 
closely than he would openly acknowledge, made a great appeal to 
public opinion when he led England away from the European 
Alliance. He denounced the French government for intervening in 
Spain, and championed the cause of national self-determination. He 
not only refused to take part in a congress of the powers that con- 
templated the suppression of the revolts in the Spanish colonies, 
but began at once to urge the government of the United States to 
cooperate with England in preventing European intervention in 
South America. 

Under Huskisson’s aggressive leadership and with the full sup- 
port of the laissez-faire economists, who were now at the height 
of their fame, public finance was thoroughly reorganized and the 
initial steps were taken toward breaking down the mercantilist sys- 



tem which still bound British commerce. Huskisson was an ex- 
perienced parliamentarian— he sat in the House o£ Commons con- 
tinuously from 1796 to 1830— and he had a better understanding of 
the whole business life of his time than any other member of Par- 
liament. This first-hand knowledge of the rapidly changing eco- 
nomic situation, together with his talent for lucid exposition of 
economic principles and his willingness to back all commercial 
undertakings, accounts for the immense respect in which he was 
held by the financial and business leaders. His unusual foresighted- 
ness was especially evident in his insistence on the necessity of 
developing Britain’s colonial empire, in a period when none of the 
leading statesmen of either party had any conception of its value 
or future importance. Under his direction, laws were carried through 
Parliament which removed the restrictions of the Navigation Acts 
from the shipping of all countries that maintained no restrictions 
on British shipping. Furthermore, the duties were sharply reduced 
on certain raw materials greatly needed by manufacturers, like 
silk, wool, and iron, on other commodities not produced in the 
United Kingdom, such as wines and coffee, and even on a few 
manufactured products, like cotton, linen, and woolen cloth. These 
moves in the direction of free trade were less important in them- 
selves than in establishing a precedent which rendered further altera- 
tions inevitable. It was only the severe industrial crisis in 1825 
that prevented further changes for several years. 2 

In 1824 the Combination Acts were repealed. Huskisson and Peel 
had been converted to the idea of abolition by the evidence gathered 
by the master-tailor Francis Place, an ardent Benthamite. They had 
obtained the help of Hume, a radical member of Parliament and 
a close friend of Bentham and James Mill. Place picked the wit- 
nesses whom Hume brought before a parliamentary committee, and 
furnished such a mass of data on the injustices inflicted on the 
workers by their employers that Parliament repealed the acts. 3 Once 
the workingmen were allowed to organize, a series of strikes fol- 
lowed, with some violence and injury to property. A new law was 

a Cf. A. Brady, Huskisson and Liberal Reform (Oxford, 1928), 

8 “The act of 1824 is the first case of the impartial application of the doctrines of 
laissez-faire even when they benefited the workmen as against the master.” G. M. 
Trevelyan, British History in the igth Century (London, 1922), 201. 


therefore passed in 1825 forbidding combinations of workingmen 
for any purpose other than that of securing the regulation of hours 
and wages. The use of violence or even of intimidation of any sort 
was strictly forbidden. Thus, while the principle of trade-union or- 
ganization continued to be recognized, any really effective action 
on the part of the industrial proletariat was declared illegal. In this 
unsatisfactory position the workers remained for more than forty 

The years 1820 to 1825 were marked by a great improvement in 
economic conditions in Britain. Prosperity was returning on the con- 
tinent and, on the other side of the world, the whole American 
hemisphere was opened to commercial intercourse. England, situ- 
ated between, acted as the great clearing house. “Nearly all property 
has risen greatly in value,” wrote one observer, “and every branch 
of industry is thriving. Agricultural distress has disappeared; the 
persons employed in the cotton and woolen manufactures are in 
full employment; on all sides new buildings are in progress, and 
money is so abundant that men of enterprise find no difficulty in 
commanding funds.” 4 The value of exports rose from £48,000,000 
in 1820 to nearly £70,000,000 in 1830; during the same period the 
import of wool increased from less than 10,000,000 lbs. to over 32,000,- 
000; and the number of cotton spinners rose from 66,000 to over 
135,000. The phenomenal industrialization of modern England, re- 
tarded by the wars, was now rapidly proceeding. 

The rate of development was at first too fast. Wild financial specu- 
lation, especially in South American investments, that had had no 
parallel since the days of the South Sea Bubble, brought on a finan- 
cial crisis in 1825-26. Within five days, in December, 1825, a hundred 
twenty-two banks suspended payment. Riots broke out in the manu- 
facturing areas, looms were smashed, and much property destroyed. 
The prolonged drought in the summer of 1826 added to the general 
distress, but no radical agitators appeared to assume the leadership 
of the masses, as in 1816 and 1817. The difference between the atti- 
tude of the public during this crisis and its earlier attitude was indeed 
striking; few now talked politics, but everywhere men discussed 

4 J. A. R. Marriott, England since Waterloo (New York, 1927), 75. 



banks, paper money, free trade, and the abolition o£ the Corn Law. 5 
Gradually the worst effects of the crisis passed off, trade picked up, 
prices rose, and the steadfast behavior of Canning and Huskisson 
restored confidence in the government. 

The reforms instituted after the reorganization of the Liverpool 
ministry in 1822 were creating growing friction between the new 
and more liberal members and the older Tories in the cabinet. In 
Parliament and in the press the more reactionary members continued 
to command the backing of the clergy and the landed aristocracy, 
while the progressive wing was supported by the commercial classes, 
especially by the bankers and the new “captains of industry.” The 
ministry was held together only by Lord Liverpool’s skill in recon- 
ciling the differences between the factions; but a stroke of apoplexy 
in 1827 forced his retirement, and upset the balance. After some nego- 
tiations Canning became prime minister, several Whigs were brought 
into the cabinet, and three of the prominent Tory members, Well- 
ington, Eldon, and Peel, resigned. Canning himself was almost 
completely taken up with foreign affairs, particularly with the Greek 
War of Independence. He died within a few months of his appoint- 
ment, August 8, 1827. His reputation rests primarily on his foreign 
policy, the bases of which, however, had been prepared by Castle- 
reagh. Canning’s abilities as a diplomatist were combined with a 
talent for showmanship which captivated public opinion and with a 
skill at political maneuvering that made him a widely suspected and 
well-hated man, even among those who recognized his talents and 
the strategic importance of following him. 

Early in 1828 the Duke of Wellington, a stiff-necked conservative, 
succeeded to the headship of the ministry. He promptly dropped the 
Whig members and brought back the old Tories; soon even the 
liberal Tories resigned and before the end of 1828 the cabinet was 
again as reactionary as it had been before 1822. But Wellington 
proved to be a prime minister without political ambition. Once he 
saw the tide moving in a certain direction he yielded to it without 
fear of criticism or dread of inconsistency. In this opportunism he 
was urged on by Peel, who, though a convinced Tory, disagreed 

5 While Lord John Russell was predicting revolt, Greville wrote in his diary, “So 
crept and so absorbing is the interest which the present economic discussions excite that 
all men are become political economists*' Greville, Memoirs (London, 1875), I, 81. 


with the policies of the old-fashioned die-hards in his party. The 
first important act of his ministry was the repeal of the Test and 
Corporation Acts which, since the reign of Charles II, had required 
every holder of a civil or military office to receive the sacraments 
according to the rites of the state church. These acts had not been 
enforced for a century, but they galled the pride of prominent Dis- 
senters, and, against the wishes of many in the cabinet, they were 
now repealed by Parliament. 

The same year an effective breach was made in the agricultural 
monopoly maintained by the Corn Laws, the ark of the Tory cove- 
nant. The Corn Law of 1815, which practically excluded foreign 
grain, had not brought the expected prosperity to the agrarian classes; 
it hampered foreign trade and it kept the prices on farm products 
so high that strong opposition was aroused among the industrial 
leaders and the workers in the towns. Although the law had been 
repeatedly attacked in Parliament, only slight modifications were 
made. Canning and Huskisson believed that, since only a third of 
the population lived on the land, industrial interests should be 
favored, not only because of the unfairness of the existing arrange- 
ments but also because they were convinced that the future pros- 
perity of England was to be built on her commerce and manufac- 
ture. But when, in the hard times of 1826, Canning tried to induce 
Parliament to modify the law, the Duke of Wellington secured a 
defeat of the proposal in the House of Lords. Now that the duke 
was prime minister, a group in the cabinet forced him to carry 
through Parliament an act which allowed grain to be imported at 
any time, though it fixed a sliding scale of duties which made the 
tariff high only when the price of English grain was very low. Just 
as Huskisson’s legislation had initiated the movement toward free 
trade in raw materials and manufactured products, so the new Corn 
Law of 1828 marked the first important move toward free trade in 
agricultural products. In both these matters England was a number 
of decades ahead of the continental states. 6 

The Wellington ministry was suddenly confronted with a problem 
far more difficult than that presented by the Corn Laws. The whole 

8 Cf. D G Barnes, History of the English Com Laws, 1660-1846 (London, 1930), and 
C. R Fay, The Corn Laws and Social England (Cambridge, 1932). 



question of Catholic Emancipation was suddenly brought to a head 
by the election to Parliament of Daniel O’Connell, head of the 
Catholic Association in Ireland. This was, to be sure, but the latest 
phase of an issue that had occupied Parliament for several decades. 
Between 1791 and 1793 a series of acts had removed many Catholic 
disabilities, even allowing the Catholics of the United Kingdom to 
vote in parliamentary elections. 7 But certain disqualifications re- 
mained: no Catholic could sit in the Parliament at London, nor 
become a sheriff, nor rise to the highest positions in the state, the 
army, or the bar. Pitt had intended to remove these restrictions, but 
the opposition of George III had killed the project and had forced 
Pitt’s resignation in 1801. The question continued to be raised in 
Parliament, though it proved impossible to carry through the House 
of Lords a bill removing the last disabilities. 

It was O’Connell’s Catholic Association which had now finally 
forced the issue. 8 This union of Irish Catholics, founded in 1823, 
was suppressed by the government in 1825 as “an unlawful com- 
bination,” but was immediately reorganized as an educational and 
charitable society. After a few years it was again allowed to conduct 
political propaganda. Its rapid growth in membership was due not 
only to O’Connell’s ability as a leader and to the reduction of dues 
to a penny a month, but to the increase of misery in Ireland. The 
population was very dense, and much of the income of the peasants 
went to absentee English landlords. In the towns the rapid develop- 
ment of English industry was ruining Irish manufactures. Ireland 
was a land of poverty, ignorance, and bitterness, where the govern- 
ment put down all manifestations of discontent as though the country 
were a conquered province. Amidst this distress and unrest the 
Catholic Association worked steadily, being careful to keep all its 
proceedings peaceable and aboveboard. The lists of members were 
available to all who wanted to see them, all meetings were open to 
the public, and anything that resembled conspiracy was scrupulously 
avoided. In 1828 O’Connell’s election to Parliament forced the Well- 
ington cabinet to face the situation. The election had been marked 
by no disorder. The voters, led by the priests, had gone quietly to the 

7 The technicalities of these laws are complicated; cf. F. W. Maitland, Constitutional 
History of England (Cambridge, 1908), 519-520 

* Cf. D. R. Gwynn, The Struggle for Catholic Emancipation (London, 1928). 


polls and cast their ballots, all in the most approved legal fashion. 
So orderly a demonstration in Ireland was convincing evidence of 
the thoroughness and effectiveness of O’Connell’s organization. 
Everyone was amazed. 

The Lord Lieutenant of Ireland informed the government that, 
much as he abhorred the idea of “truckling to the over-bearing 
Catholic demagogues,” it would not be possible permanently to 
refuse legally elected Catholics the right to sit at Westminster. George 
IV tried to prevent the introduction of the question into Parliament, 
but the ministry offered its resignation, whereupon the king backed 
down. Peel defended an Emancipation Bill in the House of Com- 
mons and Wellington bluntly recommended it to the Lords as an 
alternative preferable to civil war. “I must say,” he declared, “that if 
I could avoid by any sacrifice whatever even one month of civil war 
in the country to which I am attached, I would sacrifice my life in 
order to do it.” He then proceeded to force the bill through the 
House of Lords as he had driven the French out of Spain. The 
bill passed and Catholics became eligible for all but a very few 
offices in the United Kingdom. For the first time in English history 
a political association had compelled Parliament to pass a measure 
into law. The reaction of O’Connell’s success upon English politics 
resembled that of the success of the American Revolution; what 
Irishmen had done, certainly Englishmen could do. 

Wellington and Peel (of whom O’Connell said “his smile is like 
a silver plate on a coffin”) lacked the good sense to allow the new 
law to stand as an act of reconciliation. Having given rights with 
one hand, they proceeded to withdraw privileges with the other. 
Emancipation had been won by the votes of small Irish freeholders. 
In revenge the franchise was now so raised that the Irish electorate 
was reduced from 200,000 voters to 26,000. In Ireland this new move 
was regarded as an attempt to cancel the effects of emancipation; 
consequently, the Emancipation Act did little to allay discontent. 

Neither the king nor the ministry survived much longer. George 
IV died on June 26, 1830, and was succeeded by his brother, who 
took the title of William IV. The accession of a new king called for 
a parliamentary election, and soon the whole kingdom was in a 



state of excited preparation for an election that was certain to be 
fought mainly on the issue of parliamentary reform* 


The assassination of the Due de Berri and the subsequent dis- 
missal of Decazes sealed the doom of Louis XVIII’s attempt to 
harmonize liberalism and royalism. The king, now more gouty and 
weary than ever, was no longer able to resist the pressure of his own 
entourage, especially that of the charming Mme. du Cayla, an agent 
of the Ultras, who took Decazes 5 place as the chief royal favorite. To 
lead the ministry, the king recalled the Due de Richelieu, who at 
once carried through the Chambers a law temporarily restricting the 
liberty of the press. No journal could be founded without the govern- 
ment’s consent, no single issue could appear without the censor’s 
permission; the government might suspend publication for six 
months and, under certain circumstances, suppress a journal com- 
pletely. Richelieu then set about the preparation and enactment of 
a new, electoral law which, when finally passed, established two 
kinds of electoral colleges, the colleges d! arr on dissement and the col- 
leges de dSpartement. All citizens paying a direct tax of three hun- 
dred francs were allowed to vote in the first, which had the right to 
elect two hundred fifty-eight deputies. The twenty-five per-cent of 
these electors who paid the highest tax — about twelve thousand 
voters — was allowed to vote a second time in the colleges de departe- 
ment y which elected the remaining one hundred seventy-two depu- 
ties. The president of each electoral college had to be chosen by the 
central government and the voters had to write out the ballots in his 
presence and hand them to him unfolded. 

This Law of the Double Vote greatly increased the power of the 
government to influence elections and assured the political domina- 
tion of the landed aristocracy. The administrative bureaucracy estab- 
lished by Napoleon was now filled largely with royalists favorable 
to the government, which used these administrators to manipulate 
elections and to interfere with the working of the parliamentary 
regime, established by the Charter. This situation helps to explain 
why the ministries were able to keep themselves in power in spite 


of the steady growth of opposition among the mass of the people. 9 
As a result of these events of 1820, the royalist reaction, started in 
1814-15, but suspended from 1816 to 1820 when more moderate 
policies prevailed, was now again under way. It was destined to last 
with only a slight interruption until 1830, when it culminated in a 
new revolution. 

The first elections held under the new electoral law returned so 
many Ultras that the majority of the deputies found Richelieu too 
lukewarm a royalist. He was forced to resign and early in 1822 a 
cabinet was formed under the Comte de Villele, who remained head 
of the ministry until 1828. This shift to the Right in the years 1820 
to 1822 led to a series of revolutionary plots on the part of the French 
Carbonari; but their attempts to start insurrections all ended in 
failure. The easy success of the French troops in Spain in 1823 
reconciled the army with the dynasty. As the strength of the secret 
societies had been drawn largely from the army, the immediate 
danger of an overthrow of the Bourbon regime disappeared. 

In the Chambers, Villele was pushing toward the realization of 
the Ultra program. A new law was passed by which all cases of at- 
tack on the policies of the government by the press were to be tried 
without a jury; the same law also made the mere “tendency” of an 
article to “bring about a breach of the public peace” a punishable 
offense. The Ecole de Droit was closed and reopened only after 
twelve professors had been dismissed; the Ecole Normale was re- 
organized as the Ecole Preparatoire; the name College Royal was 
substituted for the name Lycee; Guizot, Cousin, and Villemain were 
dismissed from their teaching positions; and the direction of the 
Universite de France was given to a bishop, Frayssinous. These 
measures were not passed without debate in the Chambers, liberal 
opponents like Manuel and Foy- making up in vehemence what their 
party now lacked in numbers. In the debates on the Spanish War, 
Manuel denounced “this monkish crusade against liberty,” where- 
upon his dismissal from the Chamber of Deputies was voted. He 
refused to leave and had to be dragged out by the police; the other 
deputies of the Left followed him. New elections were held early 

9 Cf. F B. Artz, “The Electoral System in. France 1815-1830,” Journal of Modern 
History , 1939. 


in 1824; the government went to extraordinary lengths in employ- 
ing the prefects and other administrative officials to manipulate the 
voting; even the clergy were used as government electoral agents. 
The machinery worked perfectly and the liberals found their num- 
bers in the Chamber reduced to fifteen out of a total of four hundred 
thirty. Encouraged by his success, Villele arranged for a law (May, 
1824) setting aside an earlier regulation which provided for the 
annual partial renewal of the Chamber of Deputies, and assuring 
the continuance of this Chambre Retrouvee , as the Ultras called it, 
for seven years. In the midst of this reaction Louis XVIII died, 
September 16, 1824. 

The accession of Charles X at last gave the Ultras hope of fully 
realizing their program. 10 The new king, though a man of great 
personal charm, was a reactionary of the purest stripe. At the be- 
ginning of the Restoration, Louis XVIII, who greatly distrusted his 
brother’s judgment, once remarked that the fate of the monarchy 
depended on whether he survived the Comte d’ Artois. 11 Artois had 
always looked on the Charter as a temporary concession. Early in 
his brother’s reign he had expressed his hope for an early return “to 
^ the natural order of things.” Now, at the age of sixty-seven, he was 
not likely to change his ideas. Villele remained at the head of the 
ministry and continued with unusual success his work of keeping 
the public finances in order and of maintaining an efficient direction 
of the political administration. Though a man of some capacity as 
a political manager, he was not able, as were Canning and Peel, to 
control the more reactionary members of his party. 

In 1825 the king was crowned at Rheims. The ritual seemed to 
belong to the age of St. Louis. At the end of the great ceremony the 
bells pealed, the organ played a triumphal march, and a flock of 
doves, let loose among the vaults, fluttered about in a cloud of in- 
cense. To make the spectacle complete, the king, on the morning 
after the coronation, mounted a white horse and in the midst of a 
brilliant retinue rode to the Hopital de Saint-Marc. There the chief 

10 For the reign of Charles X a good introduction is P. de La Gorce, La Restauration* 
Charles X (Paris, 1028) 

31 As Sorel says, “Charles *X had all the qualities for gaily losing a battle or for 
gracefully ruining a dynasty, but none needed for managing a party or reconquering a 
country/* A. Sorel, U Europe et la Revolution frangmse (Paris, 1885-1904), II, 173. 


physician of the royal household awaited him at the head of a band 
of more than a hundred persons afflicted with scrofula. Charles, after 
a short prayer, set himself to the task of curing them by the royal 
touch. Those who saw the events at Rheims, though they may have 
heard the king take the oath to defend the Charter, may well have 
imagined that the revolution and Napoleon had been but unim- 
portant incidents in the history of France, even the memory of which 
would soon be effaced. The extreme irritation of the liberals was 
expressed in Beranger’s poem, “Le sacre de Charles le Simple ” which 
at once caught the popular fancy, and cost its author nine months’ 
imprisonment. 1 “ 

With the outward glory of the monarchy restored, the Villele 
ministry wanted to secure the inner substance as well. The govern- 
ment was soon occupied with its program of undoing, so far as 
possible, the work of the revolution. This was to be accomplished 
by a general social and religious reorganization of France; the 
power of the nobility was to be reconstituted by indemnifying the 
emigres and by enacting a law of primogeniture; the power of the 
church was to be restored through the reestablishment of the reli- 
gious orders and the return to the church of its traditional control of 
education. In 1825 the ministry carried through the Chambers a bill 
to indemnify the emigres to the amount of a billion francs. The 
money was raised by lowering the rate on government bonds from 
five to three per cent, which greatly angered the banking and indus- 
trial groups who held these securities. Still more resentment was 
aroused among all classes when they saw emigres , who had fought 
with foreigners against the French armies, rewarded handsomely out 
of the public treasury. The Law of Indemnification was in itself a 
salutary measure, for it settled, once and for all, a thorny question, 
but at the time it was misunderstood by all parties and its immediate 
result was a wave of liberal indignation. 13 

The same year (1825) a law was passed making the crime of 
sacrilege, the theft of sacred objects from churches, punishable by 
death. In defending this Law of Sacrilege in the Chamber of Peers, 

32 Cf. J. P Gamier, Le sacre de Charles X ct V opinion pubhque en 1825 (Paris, 19 27) 

18 The indemnification of the French nobles in relation to the whole social and political 
situation is discussed in great detail by A Gain, La rcstauration ct les biens des emigres 
(2 \ols , Nancy 1928). 


Bonald said that it “merely sent the criminal before his natural 
judge,” but the mass of the people saw in this provision for putting 
the secular arm at the service of religion a step toward the return of 
the Ancien Regime. 14 Paul Louis Courier said of the growing use 
of religion to enforce political reaction, “ ‘Go and teach all the 
nations’ said the Master, but it is not written, ‘Go with the police 
and teach’!” 15 Projects were also presented for the reestablishment 
of the Law of Primogeniture, and for a law — called by Peyronnet the 
“Law of Justice and of Love” — which made the censorship even 
more severe. 13 Both bills failed to pass. When the public learned of 
their failure, Paris was illuminated and cries of “Down with the 
Ministry,” and “Down with the Jesuits” — the first rumblings of 
revolution — were heard in the streets. The Villele cabinet like those 
which had preceded it, was fiercely attacked from two sides; a group 
of Ultras on close terms with Charles X were impatient with the 
ministers for not moving more rapidly toward the restoration of 
noble and clerical privileges, while the liberal leaders of the Left 
were exerting every effort to stop the reaction from going further. 
The cause of moderate royalism had failed and it was becoming in- 
creasingly clear that the only alternatives were return to the Ancien 
Regime or revolution. 

The hardest drive of the ministry was directed against the Uni- 
versite de France, the Napoleonic institution most hated by the 
Ultras. Afraid to overthrow it entirely, Villele had begun in 1822 to 
attack it piecemeal. By 1824 he had succeeded in expelling the most 
outstanding liberal teachers and had placed the whole educational 
regime under the direction of Frayssinous. 17 Under this ecclesi- 
astical administration the primary instruction in France was placed 
in the hands of the local bishops, and in all secondary schools {col- 
leges royaux ), laymen were, wherever possible, replaced by priests. 
The government also allowed the petits seminaires, where priests 

14 Cf Montmorillon, “An soir de la Restauration, la lot du sacrilege” Revue des 
Etudes historiques, 1932. 

15 F B. Artz, France under ike Bourbon Restoration (Cambridge, 1931), 163. 

^ 18 Talleyrand said of the bill, “It is not French because it is silly!” It was at this 
time that the Abbe Liautard, a prominent Jesuit, urged the king to allow in France only 
one newspaper, which should contain short articles written by government officials, and 
stock and weather reports. 

11 ^ Gamier, Frayssinous , son role dans Vuniversite sous la rest aw ation (Paris, 


received their elementary training, to admit lay students who had 
no idea of taking orders. Thus, side by side with the state Uni- 
versite, and organized with the purpose of subverting it, a system 
of clerically controlled secondary schools was brought into existence. 
Seven of the perns semi mures were directed by Jesuits, though 
legally the Order had no right to exist in France. The growing 
evidence of clerical influence in all departments of the government 
seems, in the years 1822 to 1830, to have aroused more opposition to 
the Bourbon regime than did any of its political policies. As one 
of the newspapers said, “The present period will be hard to explain 
to our descendants. One talks now of nothing but bishops, priests, 
Jesuits, convents, and seminaries !” 18 “The great error of the 
Bourbons,” wrote Cournot, “as well as of the royalist party and the 
clergy during the Restoration was to compromise both the monarchy 
and religion. The French have loved and still love Catholicism and 
royalty, but what they have never liked has been religion put to the 
service of politics, or politics put to the service of religion.” 19 

In the face of this reaction, fear and resentment spread rapidly 
among the masses, above all in the country districts where the 
peasants had in the earlier years of the Restoration shown little 
interest in politics. Since 1822 liberal leaders had based their re- 
sistance to the government on the Charter. Conspiracy had been 
given up, and in lectures, in speeches, and in the press they had 
proclaimed the advantages of living under a free constitution. They 
had denounced all official action which seemed to undermine the 
fundamental instrument of government which Louis XVIII had 
granted and which Charles X had sworn to uphold. With great 
astuteness and with much show of legality, the liberal leaders used 
Bourbon precedent to attack the Bourbon in power. In the name of 
Louis XV, who had driven the Order out of France, they attacked 
the Jesuits, and against all ultramontane tendencies they evoked the 
Declaration of Gallican Liberties of Louis XIV. Despite the repres- 
sive laws of censorship, much of this liberal criticism found its way 
into the press. The few liberals left in the Chamber of Deputies 
after the elections of 1824 kept up the fight, and the Moniteur, the 

18 Artz, op cit , 160. 

10 Cournot, Souvenirs (Paris, 1913), 159. 



official journal, published their biting attacks on the ministry. 
Reports appeared also of civil cases in the courts in which a liberal 
judge or lawyer attacked the policies of the government or the 
church. The liberal cause received support from the Royal Court 
of Paris, which considered itself the successor of the old Parlement; 
a number of press cases brought to it ended in dramatic acquittals. 
Other courts followed suit and the government found it increas- 
ingly difficult to secure convictions in cases involving the freedom 
of the press. Other criticisms were embedded in historical and 
literary articles and reviews. Everywhere it was evident that the 
opposition was growing stronger. The fight was kept up most 
effectively in the press by the Constitutionnel and the Journal des 
Debats , and by the anticlerical and antiroyalist pamphlets of Paul 
Louis Courier and the popular songs of Beranger. The French Acad- 
emy added its voice of protest against the government’s press policy. 
The Chamber of Peers, which contained a number of Napoleonic 
nobles, proved to be less reactionary than the lower house. In the 
case of a number of important laws it put up a stubborn resistance 
to the program of Villele. It amended the Law of Sacrilege so as 
to make it harmless, and, to the delight of the opposition, the peers 
rejected the Law of Primogeniture and the press “Law of Justice 
and of Love.” Even some of the most ardent defenders of royalism 
were now deserting the king and the ministry. Chateaubriand, who 
had been summarily dismissed by Villele and Louis XVIII “like a 
domestic servant,” had gone over to the opposition in 1824, and 
was attacking the government in the pages of the Journal des 
Debats; the old emigre , Montlosier, though an ardent believer in 
royalty, in 1826 launched a violent attack on the Jesuits and the 
ministry which supported them. The Congregation and the Jesuits, 
he asserted, dominated the ministries; they could count on a hun- 
dred five deputies; they were spreading their propaganda every- 
where. In answering Montlosier’s attacks, Frayssinous, the minister 
of ecclesiastical affairs, acknowledged the presence of the Jesuits in 
France, in spite of the laws prohibiting them. The liberals at once 
made great capital of this avowal. 

By 1826 it was evident that the nation and the monarchy were 


moving in opposite directions; the monarch was preparing to estab- 
lish a despotism while the nation was drifting toward revolution. 
Charles X continued to aggravate the situation. He appeared in 
religious processions on the streets of Paris, especially in 1826, at 
the time of the celebration of the papal jubilee. The same year, 
as he was reviewing the National Guard, he was greeted with cries 
of, “Down with the Jesuits!” and “Down with Villele!” Whereupon, 
at Villele’s urging, he ordered its disbandment. The Guard was the 
pride of the French middle class — the wits of the time called the 
members, les Spiders jamssaires — and this summary action of the 
king made him very unpopular in Paris. The guardsmen were 
allowed to keep their arms, of which they were to make effective 
use three years later in the street fighting of the July Revolution. In 
the Chambers Villele’s majority was waning. Sure, however, that 
new elections would favor him, he induced the king to dismiss the 
Chamber, which still had four years to run, and to call for new 

The ministry again sent a circular to every prefect instructing him 
to inform all officials that they must vote for the government’s 
candidates and do all in their power to influence others to act like- 
wise. The clergy loudly denounced the liberals and urged the faith- 
ful to vote for devoted royalists. The liberals, in turn, organized 
political meetings, and conducted propaganda. The Sodete des amis 
de la liberte de la presse t founded under the presidency of Chateau- 
briand in June 1827, collected funds to pay the fines of liberal news- 
paper owners. In July a liberal political society under Guizot’s direc- 
tion, “Aide-toi, le del t’aidera” (Heaven helps him who helps 
himself), was organized to spread liberal ideas and to force pre- 
fects to stop manipulating and falsifying the electoral lists. As a 
result of its efforts the eligible electors in France were increased 
from 67,400 to nearly 83,000. Some of the great bankers and manu- 
facturers, like Laffitte and Ternaux, angered by the recent class 
legislation in favor of the church and the nobility, gave their backing 
to the new society. Men of business were henceforth arrayed with 
Napoleonic veterans and liberal idealists against the whole existing 
regime. Everywhere the public was aroused as it had not been since 



1815. The elections took place in an atmosphere of feverish excite* 
ment. 2<) 

When the votes were counted, it was discovered that the opposi* 
tion had won a majority of sixty in the new Chamber. Villele and 
the king were both deeply disappointed. When Charles X blundy 
asked him, “Have you a majority?” Villele was forced to acknowl- 
edge that he had not. He tried to approach the Left, but the financial 
situation was so bad that his reputation as an administrator, which 
might have helped him once again to overcome a crisis, was now 
undermined. For five years Villele, himself a partisan neither of 
clericalism nor of reaction, had tried to please the Ultras without 
making himself too offensive to the liberals. Now he found him- 
self despised by the liberals and rejected by the king and his circle* 
After some hesitation, he handed in his resignation on January 3, 
1828. When he went to take his leave of the Due d’Angouleme, the 
latter, with his customary ineptitude, said to him, “Well, you have 
become too unpopular Whereupon Villele replied, “God grant that 
it is only I!” Mettermch, on learning of the elections and the fall 
of Villele, wrote, “France is lost; the institutions she possesses do 
not suit her, and they will fall to pieces. . . . For France there is 
nothing but the Republic or the Empire. ... It is possible that 
France may have to pass again through confusion to arrive at 
order.” 21 

The king, who had parted with Villele only with the greatest 
reluctance, turned to a moderate royalist, Martignac, to form a new 
ministry. Accepting the commission to take over the government, 
Martignac tried to reconstruct the moderate royalist party that had 
maintained the upper hand in the Chambers from 1816 to 1820. This 
move soon met with the hostility of the king and the Ultras, and 
with the still greater hostility of all the factions of the Left. Evi- 
dently the new ministry was not to command a majority for long. 
Cousin, Guizot, and Villemain were again allowed to teach, a 
number of Ultra prefects were dismissed, and a more liberal press 
law was voted. But the only important accomplishment of the short- 
lived Martignac ministry (1828-29) was the Ordinances of 1828. The 
first, directed against the Jesuits, withdrew the right to teach from 

®° Cf. P. Thureau-Dangin, Le parti literal sous la restauration (and ed., Paris, 1888). 

21 Metternich, Memoirs (New York, 1881), IV, 434. 


all nonauthorized religious orders; the second restricted the number 
of lay students who might enroll in the petits seminaires . The 
bishops made a vigorous protest and the Ordinances were denounced 
in pastoral letters and from the pulpit. The clergy proclaimed that 
an age of persecution had begun and spoke in the same breath of 
Julian the Apostate, Marat, and Martignac. The violence of their 
language was so extreme that the pope ordered them to moderate 
their attitude, though the king secretly encouraged them. 

Martignac next prepared a plan for the reform of local govern- 
ment, a proposal that had been discussed for nearly fifteen years. 
According to this project the town and the departmental councils, 
instead of being appointed by the king, should be locally elected. 
Martignac was interested chiefly in changing the town councils, but 
the interest of the liberal opposition was centered on the reform 
of the departmental councils, through which it hoped to curb the 
influence of the prefects. In the Chambers the controversy turned 
on the question as to which law should be brought up first, and in 
the debates Martignac was attacked furiously from both the Right 
and the Left. His attempt to command a moderate royalist majority 
ended in failure and, despised and neglected by the king, he was 
obliged to resign in August 1829. Charles X had evidently been 
trying to prove that nothing would please the Chambers and that 
all attempts to reconcile royal with constitutional government were 
doomed to failure, as indeed, from his point of view, they were. 22 

Charles X now determined to defy the Chambers, a stand which 
had not been taken since Louis XVIII maintained Richelieu in 
power against the will of the majority in the Chambre Introuvable . 
He recalled Pohgnac from England, where he had been French 
ambassador, and, in the teeth of an overwhelming majority in the 
Chambers, made him head of a new ministry. Son of a favorite of 
Marie Antoinette, and a prominent royalist intriguer against 
Napoleon, Polignac had returned to France after the fall of the 
Empire. In 1816 he was one of the two members of the Chambers 
who had refused to take the oath to the Charter, and he was widely 
known as one of the most prominent members of the Congre- 
gation. Polignac was probably the most hated Ultra in France; his 

23 Cf. E. Daudet, Lc mmistkrc Martignac (Paris, 1875). 



very name was a battle cry. Not until August 1829, did he succeed 
in bringing a cabinet together. It was a strange collection, which 
included La Bourdonnaye, the noisiest and most boastful Ultra in 
the Chambers, and General Bourmont, who had betrayed Napoleon 
in 1815. “Coblenz, Waterloo, 1815,” as one liberal journal declared, 
“squeeze, press the ministry as you like, you will wring from it 
nothing but national dangers and humiliations!” In choosing 
Polignac and the rest of the ministry, Charles made it clear that 
he was no longer trying either to maintain the appearance of con- 
stitutional rule above all parties or of rule in accordance with the 
wishes of the majority. The king and a small party were now on the 
verge of establishing a despotism. The Ultras openly discussed a 
royalist coup d’etat, citing in justification Article 14 of the Charter, 
by which the king was granted the right to issue ordinances when 
the country was in danger. They extolled the action of Louis XIV, 
who had arrived booted and spurred and whip in hand to reprimand 
the Parlement de Paris! The nation, however, was getting ready 
for a revolution. In December, 1828, the young Cavour wrote, “The 
coming year will be very interesting. In France the two parties are 
about to come to a decisive struggle, and it is probable that the dregs 
of the Villele administration and the counter-revolutionary party 
will be completely beaten by the true defenders of civilization. The 
course of events will drag all Europe in its train.” 23 


The Carlsbad Decrees and the crushing of the Italian revolutions 
in 1821 tightened the hold of the Hapsburgs on every court in central 
Europe from Naples to BerlinT^Within the Confederation some of 
the South German states, under the leadership of King William 
of Wiirttemberg, kept up their resistance to the policies of Metter- 
nich and of Frederick William III of Prussia, who usually worked 
in close cooperation with him. To make trouble for Metternich, the 
King of Wiirttemberg granted his people a constitution a few 
weeks after the publication of the Carlsbad Decrees. In 1820 an 
anonymous pamphlet, the Manuscript from South Germany, written 
under the direction of King William, condemned the decrees and 

23 A. J. Whyte, The Early Life and Letters of Cavour (Oxford, 1925), 26. 


proposed the formation of a South German Confederation consisting 
•jt Bavaria, Wiirttemberg, and Baden, which should be independent 
of all Austrian and Prussian influence. Other attacks on these two 
great powers followed, and in 1823 William sent a circular dispatch 
to some of the German rulers protesting vigorously against the 
interference of Austria and Prussia m the internal affairs of the 
lesser states of the Confederation. Metternich thereupon demanded 
that Wurttemberg recall Wangenheim, her principal representative 
at Frankfort. When King William refused this demand, Austria 
and Prussia promptly withdrew their envoys from Stuttgart. At the 
request of the Mainz Commission, the Diet ordered the suppression 
of the leading journal in the Wurttemberg capital. William was 
forced to back down completely, Wangenheim was recalled, the 
press was censored, and the Wurttemberg government assented to 
the renewal of the Carlsbad Decrees in 1824. Gentz hailed these 
changes as a greater victory for “the principles of sound government” 
than the French overthrow of the Spanish Revolution. 

Metternich was now at the height of his influence in the 
Germanies; none of the federated states dared defy the wishes of 
Austria. The Diet at Frankfort met during only four months of 
the year and its activities were directed largely by Metternich’s 
agents. Repression was, more than ever, the order of the day. Those 
rulers who had granted constitutions were obliged to curb all 
liberal agitation in their assemblies; in every state the press was 
severely censored, and the universities, in which the Burschen - 
schaften had been secretly revived, were put under surveillance. Large 
numbers of liberals were kept in prison, and even suspected for- 
eigners were held; in 1824 Victor Cousin, while making a sojourn 
in Germany to study the work of the Idealist Philosophers, was 
arrested in Saxony and later detained for six months in Berlin. The 
regime in Prussia after the death of Hardenberg in 1822 became 
nearly as repressive as in Austria. Metternich’s agent, Prince 
Wittgenstein, became the leading figure in the government. No 
attempt was made to fulfill the promise of 1815 to grant a constitu- 
tion, though in 1823 provincial estates to look after local affairs — 
road building, poor-relief, and tax-assessment — were established 
for the eight provinces of Prussia. Great improvements were made 


in the organization o£ the Prussian army and in local administra- 
tion, and the system of taxation and public finance was recon- 
structed. Politically, however, all the states o£ the Confederation 
stagnated until they were aroused by the clarion call of the July 
Revolution in Paris. 

At the very time when the rulers of the German states, terrified 
by the specter of revolution so cleverly evoked by Metternich, were 
surrendering their political powers to the Austrian chancellor, 
Prussia was taking the lead in the organization of a customs union 
which ultimately brought together all the Germanies except Austria. 
In 1815 the sudden opening of German markets to cheap British 
manufactures had aroused German industrial leaders to the need 
of a complete reform of the tariff regulations. The economist, List, 
summed up the situation: “Thirty-eight tariff walls impede internal 
commerce with much the same effect as if every limb of the human 
body were tied up so that the blood could not circulate. To go from 
Hamburg to Austria or from Berlin to Switzerland, ten states must 
be traversed, ten customs duties paid. . . . Most discouraging is this 
state of things for men who want to work and trade. With envious 
eyes they gaze across the Rhine where a great nation can trade 
freely from the Rhine to the Pyrenees, from the Dutch frontier to 
Italy without meeting a single customs-house officer.” 24 

Many German bankers and business men were now convinced 
that German manufactures had to be protected, smuggling curbed, 
the cost of tariff collection reduced, and that, inside the Confeder- 
ation, trade had to be facilitated by the abolition of many local 
customs boundaries. 25 The movement for tariff reform began in 
Prussia in 1818 when, through the influence of the Prussian finance 
minister, Maasen, the internal customs boundaries which divided 
one Prussian province from another were abolished and a uniform 
tariff, low enough to make smuggling unprofitable, was established 
against the rest of the world. The other German states looked on 
Prussia’s policy with the greatest suspicion. At the Vienna Confer- 

34 A. Birtrie, Economic History of Europe (2nd ed . N. Y , 1931), 72 

25 The hindrance to trade caused by the lack of uniform commeicial legislation in the 
German states is shown by the fact that the publication of a new work of Goethe’s de- 
manded the making of arrangements with thirty-eight states to prevent pirating and to 
secure publication rights. Cf. W. 0 . Henderson, Zollvcrcin (Cambridge, 193S). 


ences they tried pressure to force the Prussian government to 
abandon it. But in a few years several tiny states enclosed by Prussian 
territory joined the system. By 1828 a large free trade area had been 
formed under Prussian leadership in North Germany. Similar 
unions were established between Bavaria and Wurttemberg and 
between Saxony and Hanover. 

After long negotiations, which lasted until 1833, the Zollverein , a 
customs union, was formed by seventeen states with a population of 
twenty-six million people. Austria consistently refused to join. The 
constitution of the union provided for an annual assembly represent- 
ing all member governments; no changes could be made without 
unanimous consent. Among the states in the union there was to 
be free trade; the proceeds of the duties collected were to be divided 
among the governments in proportion to the population; all raw 
materials required for industry were to come in free, and on manu- 
factured products the tariffs were to be moderate. The results of 
the Zollverein were of wide-ranging significance. For the first time 
the greater part of Germany became an economic unit; means of 
communication were being rapidly developed, and soon the volume 
of trade and manufacture showed remarkable expansion. Its influ- 
ence, however, was not limited to the economic field. “The 
Zollverein ” wrote Bentham’s friend, John Bowring, in 1840, “has 
brought the sentiment of German nationality out of the regions of 
hope and fancy into those of positive and material interests . . . The 
general feeling in Germany towards the Zollverein is that it is the 
first step towards what is called the Germanization of the people. 
It has broken down some of the strongholds of alienation and 
hostility. By a community of interests on commercial and trading 
questions it has prepared the w'ay for a political nationality.” 20 The 
Prussian state by this important service qualified itself for the 
political leadership of Germany and accustomed the German states 
to cooperate without Austria. The Zollverein was a menace to the 
Confederation in that it sacrificed political union under Austria to 
the new economic union under Prussia. It did as much as any other 
movement of the early nineteenth century to prepare Germany for 
unification under Prussian leadership. 

38 J Bawring, J Report on the Prussian Customs Union (London, 1840), 17. 



The Austrian Empire was a complicated structure; the racial ele- 
ments were so diverse that no bureaucratic cement could bind them 
into a stable edifice. It held together only because of the ignorance 
of the masses and because one national force neutralized another. 
“My peoples,” said Francis I, “are strange to each other and that is 
all right. They do not get the same sickness at the same time. In 
France if the fever comes all are caught by it. I send the Hungarians 
into Italy, the Italians into Hungary. Every people watches its 
neighbor. The one does not understand the other and one hates the 
other. . . . From their antipathy will he born order and from the 
mutual hatred, general peace.” 27 The local estates, which met from 
time to time, gave no trouble to the emperor and were of no value 
to the people. In the bureaucratic administration there continued to 
prevail the systematic ineptitude already noted. The business of the 
state was carried on through a large number of chancelleries, courts, 
and offices each of which paralyzed the others. In 1826 a prolonged 
quarrel broke out in the highest court circles between Mettermch 
and Kolowrat, who had made himself indispensable through his 
knowledge of public finance. The unedifying rivalry of the two 
men seriously hampered the efficiency of the administrative system. 
The emperor’s principle of government, it was said, was to give no 
service its full reward, no department its complete development, no 
man his proper role. Every force was discouraged lest it should grow 
too strong. 

The whole Austrian conception of government was purely nega- 
tive: “Govern and change nothing” was the final dictum of Francis 
I. Both the emperor and Metternich were aware that they were 
defending a losing cause, and Francis once inadvertently told a 
Russian diplomat, “My realm is like a worm-eaten house; if one 
part is removed, one cannot tell how- much will fall.” Vienna, the 
capital from which the Hapsburgs directed the affairs of all Middle 
Europe, was the gayest of cities, but the swarm of spies that watched 
its inhabitants prevented any independence of thought. A govern- 
ment that believed that men can read themselves into criminals 
censored everything. For the intellectual classes it was a depressing 
environment. “In all the higher branches of knowledge with the 

27 O. Jaszl, Dissolution of the Hapsburg Monarchy (Chicago, 19^9), 8 a. 


exception o£ the exact sciences there is,” says one writer of the time, 
“not a single praiseworthy literary achievement; journalism through- 
out the whole glorious empire is null, the clever heads discouraged, 
under suspicion, very often exposed to the most stubborn persecu- 
tions in consequence of slanderous denunciations. . . . Such writers 
as Gibbon, Robertson, Hume, are partly forbidden and all the 
geniuses of Germany (Goethe, Schiller, Herder, Lessing, Jean Paul) 
are totally or partly suppressed ” 2S 

Among the subject nationalities in the Austrian Empire restless- 
ness was on the increase as nationalist ideas began to penetrate east- 
ward. In the eighteenth century the native languages and literatures 
of the Czechs and Magyars were in grave danger of dying cut. 
Latin and German were the languages of government and of com- 
mon intercourse among cultivated people all over the Empire. The 
highest nobility had intermarried with the German aristocracy of 
Austria and had been won over to German customs and ways of 
thinking. Only among the common people were the native languages 
kept alive; the upper classes were often no longer able to speak or 
read them, and almost no books were published except in German. 
The attempt of Joseph II to carry still further this process of 
Germanizauon finally stimulated a national consciousness among 
certain groups of intellectuals. Then had come the revolutionary 
upheaval, which scattered new ideas and aroused new aspirations 
among all subject nationalities. Among the Magyars the national 
revival dates from the linguistic reforms and the writings of 
Kazinczy, who first created an interest in Magyar literature. Soon 
a group of younger men, Katona, the Kisfaludy brothers, Voro- 
smarty, and Kolcsey, were writing poems and plays which portrayed 
the glorious episodes in Elungarian history. These men created a 
literary language and style and raised Magyar literature to a position 
of European importance. In the 1820 ’s the movement attracted the 
attention of the Hapsburg government; the works of Kazinczy 
were burned by the hangman and the author was imprisoned in the 

28 Jaszi, op. cit , 78. Quite characteristic of the attitude of the government was 
the remark of Gentz to Robert Owen when the latter was trying to convince the Austrian 
government of the need of reforms. “We do not desire to have the masses well off and 
independent. How could we rule over them?" V. Bibl , Der Zeifall Osier racks (Vienna, 
ZQ22), I, 257. 



Spielberg. The government forbade the production of some of the 
plays of Katona. 

During the long period of Hapsburg rule, the Magyars had main- 
tained their medieval local assemblies, but no general diet for the 
whole Hungarian kingdom was called between 1812 and 1825. In 
1821 Metternich sent orders to Hungary calling for recruits for the 
war in Italy, and demanding further that taxes be paid in coin 
instead of in paper money. Since the central Diet had always had 
the right to fix the number of soldiers to be furnished to the 
Hapsburg army and the right to control taxes, these demands 
aroused some of the Magyar magnates to a high pitch of anger. 
The new orders from Vienna were resisted by the local assemblies 
and protested against by the Magyar landowners, till finally, in 1825, 
the Hapsburg government called a meeting of the national Diet. 

When the Diet convened the lead was taken by Count Szechenyi, 
a young Magyar noble who now for the first time dared to address 
the assembly, not in the conventional Latin, but in Magyar. The 
opposition to the Austrian government was so strong in the Diet 
of 1825 that the emperor was obliged to agree to observe the laws, to 
raise no taxes without the consent of the Hungarian Diet, and to 
call it at least once in three years. 29 From this time on Szechenyi 
took the lead in directing the national revival. Like Confalonieri and 
some of the other Italian reformers of the period, he had traveled 
widely in western Europe and was a great admirer of England. He 
was convinced that Hungary needed not merely political reforms, 
but a complete intellectual and economic regeneration, for her back- 
wardness, he believed, was due more to the Magyars themselves than 
to the policies of the Hapsburg government. He devoted a year’s 
income from his estates to the founding of a national academy 
(1822) and was the leading influence in the establishment of a 
national theater (1837). To keep the nobles in their own country 
and to bring them together to discuss public affairs, he founded a 
club in Budapest and introduced horseracing. He started the first 
insurance company in Hungary, helped to organize a system of 
steam navigation on the Danube, and later carried through the 
building of a suspension bridge connecting Buda and Pesth. In 1830 

20 Metternich complained that in this Diet of 1825 he had “encountered all those things 
on which during my whole public life, especially in the last ten years, I have made war.” 


he wrote in his book, On Credit, , “We can do nothing about the 
past, but we are the masters of the future. Let us not bother our- 
selves then with vain reminiscences, but let us unite in a firm, 
patriotic union so that our native land, which is so dear to us, 
may bring forth finer blossoms. Many think Hungary has been; 
for me, I like to believe that she will be!” 30 

Among the Slavs of the Empire, the Czechs, Slovaks, Serbs, and 
Croats, the agitation for national regeneration was more purely 
literary and cultural. 31 When Joseph II refused to be crowned King 
of Bohemia and forbade the use of Czech in the schools of Bohemia 
and Slovakia, the anger of the intellectuals was aroused as it had 
not been for centuries. To mollify the protestants, the emperor in 
1792 established a chair of Czech literature in the University of 
Prague. But by trying to kill the Czech language, which was already 
dying a natural death, the Austrian authorities simply helped to 
rejuvenate it. Soon after xSoo a number of Czech scholars began to 
publish philological studies of the language. Little was known at 
the time about any of the Slavic languages; as late as 1827 Safafik 
wrote to Kollar that the Serb and Bulgarian tongues were more 
closely related to the Turkish than to Polish or Czech! In 1792 the 
Scientific Society at Prague sent an ex-Jesuit, Dobrovsky, to Sweden 
to search for Czech manuscripts which had been carried off during 
the Thirty Years’ War. From Stockholm Dobrovsky went to 
Finland, St. Petersburg, and Moscow to study old Slavic texts. On 
his return to Prague, he became die acknowledged leader of a 
national cultural movement which aimed at the resurrection of the 
whole history of Slavic culture. Much of his inspiration was derived 
from Herder, who had predicted a great future for the Slavs. 32 
Dobrovsky himself was primarily a scholar rather than a propa- 
gandist. He wrote mostly in Latin and German. 

A group of Bobrovsky’s friends in 1818 founded the Czech 

50 F. Eckhart, Introduction d Vhistoire hongroise (Paris, 192S), 100. 

31 The best general work is that of A. Fischel, Dcr Panslazvismus bis zum W cltkrisg 
(Berlin, 1919). 

82 In his Ideen zur Philosophic dcr Gcschichte dcr Mcnschheit , Herder wrote of the 
Slavs, “You, now deeply sunk, but once industrious and happy people, will finally awake 
from your long, listless slumber, and having shaken off the chains of slavery you will 
enjoy the possession of your picturesque lands from the Adriatic Sea to the Carpathian 
Mountains, and from the Don to the Moldau, and m them >ou will celebrate your ancient 
festivals of peaceful industry and trade/* Herder, Sdmmthchc Werhe (Berlin, 1877-1913), 
XIV, 280. 



National Museum, to which Goethe, Kolowrat, and Metternich 
contributed— Metternich probably because he thought the move- 
ment might help to deepen the antagonism between Slavs and 
Magyars in Slovakia. Another Czech scholar, Jungmann, through his 
translations of Milton, Goethe, and Chateaubriand, and his own 
original writings, first made the movement popular. During the 
first fifteen years of the century he was the soul of the cultural life 
of Bohemia. By the time Dobrovsky died, in 1829, a new Czech 
literature had come into existence, owing to his inspiration and that 
of Jungmann. The new enthusiasm for Czech antiquities ran so 
high that several of the younger men forged medieval Czech poems 
which were long believed to be genuine and which contributed 
greatly toward arousing interest in the movement. 

Among the ablest of these younger followers of Dobrovsky and 
Jungmann — Kollar, Safarik, and Palacky — the first two went to 
Germany to study. Here they came in contact with the ideals of the 
Burschenschaften (both were present at the Wartburg Festival), 
and with the writings of the German romanticists. By the time they 
began to write, the Magyar nationalist movement in Hungary was 
arousing vigorous protests among the Slovaks, who were living 
under Magyar rule and who had made a feeble beginning at starting 
a national literature in the eighteenth century. Kollar and Safarik 
were Slovaks by birth but they threw in their forces with the closely 
related Czech movement. During the i82o’s the Czech and Slovakian 
nationalist movements merged. From 1829 to 1848 a whole series of 
dictionaries, histories, philological studies, editions of folk-poems, 
translations of great foreign works, and original poems and prose 
writings appeared. 33 

Kollar’s impassioned sonnet sequence, Slava's Daughter , which 
when finally completed consisted of nearly six hundred sonnets, did 
more for the revival of Czech culture than any other work. The 
prologue is typical of much of the fervid nationalist writing of the 
early nineteenth century and reflects the almost religious worship of 

33 Safarik’s chief works were his History of the Slavic Languages and Literature — in 
German (1826), and his Slavic Antiquities— in Czech (1837); Palacky was best known 
through his History of Bohemia (1836 if.), of which there appeared in turn first a 
German, then a Czech version. 


the native culture. The passage reflects the tendency of cultural 
nationalism to evolve into racial hatred. For Koliar, as for many 
other Slav writers, the Germans from whom they derived their 
training and their ideas became the cultural oppressors: “Here before 
my tear-laden eyes stretches the land once the cradle, now the tomb 
of my people. From the banks of the Elbe to the plains of the 
Vistula, from the foamy waves of the Danube to the Baltic the 
harmonious sounds of the Slavic language once resounded. But 
hatred has suffocated them. Who committed this terrible crime? 
Shame on you, Germany! Your hand is soiled with the blood of 
this crime. . . . My eye searches for Slavs on Slavic land and finds 
none. They were the first to awaken life in the north; they taught 
men to venture forth on the sea and look for rich coasts beyond the 
waters; they tore metals from the bowels of the earth; they taught 
laborers to break the soil with a plow and bring forth golden 
harvests. And what has been your reward for all these good deeds 
and lessons, my people ? A perfidious neighbor has slipped into the 
house and thrown heavy chains around the neck of the sovereign; 
the gods themselves have fled; only the earth has remained true: 
the forests, the rivers, the walls of the villages and towns have not 
denounced their Slavic names; but the spirit is gone.” 34 

Koliar later took up the ideas of several Polish and Slovakian 
thinkers of the eighteenth century who had emphasized the common 
history and destiny of the Slavic peoples and who had dreamed of 
founding a Pan-Slavist movement. He tried to arouse a sense of 
solidarity among all the Slavic peoples of Europe. He urged cultk 
vated Slavs to learn the Czech, Polish, Russian, and Serb languages* 
to read and study each others’ books, and to cooperate in common 
movements. His ideal is expressed in one of his essays, “What art 
thou? A Russian. What art thou? A Serb. What art thou? A Pole. 
No, my children, unity! Let your answer be, I am a Slav!” 35 

In other parts of the Austrian Empire nationalist movements were 
just beginning. Among the Rumanians of Transylvania Maior’s 
History of the Romans in Rumania , , printed in Rumanian in 1812, 
and Radilescu’s Rumanian Grammar of 1828 mark the beginnings 

34 E. Denis, La Bohetne depuis la Montagne Blanche (Paris, 1903), IX, 149-150. 

33 T. Capek. The Slovaks of Hungary (New York, 1906). 18, see also the anonymous 
article, “Koliar and Literary Panslavism,” Slavonic Review, VI. 



of a Rumanian national revival. Along the Adriatic coast the 
Napoleonic rule had called into being a sense of national conscious- 
ness among the Croats, the Slovenes, and the Serbs. Before the fall 
of the Napoleonic Empire, Qbradovic, a Serb born in southern 
Hungary, had organized the schools of the new Serbian state, and 
had used the language of the Serb peasants in his writings. His 
influence on the growth of Serbian national consciousness both in 
the Austrian Empire and beyond its borders, was profound, and he 
is justly considered the creator of modem Serb nationalism. In 1815 
Karadzic, a Serb, published a volume of Serbian folk-songs, followed 
in 1818 by a Serb-German-Latin dictionary, and in 1820 by a Serb 
grammar. Karadzic had received a thorough philological training 
at German universities. His work was admired by Goethe and the 
Grimms. German learned societies honored him with their member- 
ship, and the great German historian, Leopold von Ranke, cultivated 
a close professional friendship with him. Karadzic made a large 
number of reforms in spelling and raised the Serb vernacular to the 
status of a literary language. Making extravagant claims for his na- 
tion, “the greatest people of the planet,” he announced that its cul- 
ture was five thousand years old, and that Jesus and the Twelve 
Apostles were Serbs. A Serbian journal was published in Vienna 
between 1813 and 1822, and in 1826 a group of Hungarian Serbs 
founded a literary society, the Matitsa . 

Among the closely related Croatians the national movement went 
back to the seventeenth century, when the Republic of Ragusa was 
a center of Slavic studies. 36 During the Napoleonic period a priest 
named Vodnik wrote a series of odes evoking the past glories of the 
Slovenes and Croatians, and Kopitar published the first Slovene 
grammar (1808). By 1825 the movement had progressed so far that 
one of the Croatian delegates to the Hungarian Diet could declare, 

, "“Croatia and Slavonia are not subject but associate kingdoms which 
existed long before Hungary and have Hungary not as a mother 
but merely as a sister.” 37 The same ideas were frequently expressed 

38 Cf. B. Skok, “L’importance de Dubrovnik dans I’histoire slave” Monde slave , 1931 
and B. Unbegaun, Les debuts de la langue UtUraire chez les Serbs (Paris, 193s). 

37 Seton-Watson, The Southern Slav Question and the Hapsburg Monarchy (London, 
1911), 28. Cf. tbe two works by H. Wendel, Aus dem sudslawischen Risorffwiento 
(Gotha, 1921), and Der Kampf der S udslawen um Frciheit und Einheii (Frankfort, 


in the local Croatian Diet. During the 1830’s a brilliant journalist, 
Ljudevit Gaj, started a movement which he called Illyriamsm, and 
which aimed at the union of the Southern Slavs of the Austrian 
Empire — the Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes. These new national move- 
ments, to which should be added the agitation among the Austrian 
Poles, presented a new and very serious problem for the Hapsburg 
monarchy, though as yet only the nationalism of the Magyars had 
any political importance. 38 

The failure of the revolutionary uprisings of 1820 had deepened 
the hold of the Austrian government on the Italian states. For a 
time the Hapsburgs had their armies of occupation at Naples, Turin, 
and Ancona. Their agents and spies were at work everywhere; as 
Giusti put it, the Italians “ate Austria in their bread.” In some places, 
however, the local princes, though still ready to appeal to Vienna 
in time of revolution, tried to resist Austrian interference. Piedmont 
and the Papal States frustrated her attempt to form a postal league; 
Charles Felix of Piedmont and the King of Naples successfully 
maneuvered to get the armies of occupation withdrawn, and in 
1823 Leo XII was elected pope against the wishes of Vienna. 
Beneath the surface there was constant intrigue, especially on the 
part of the Duke of Modena, who hoped to enlarge his state at 
the expense of Austria and of Piedmont, and who even approached 
the Carbonari with the idea of getting their help in carrying out 
his schemes. Within all the Italian states the sternest repression 
prevailed; the rulers reformed no abuses but held more stubbornly 
than ever to their policy of treating every murmur of dissent as a 

The Carbonari, continuing their secret agitation, plotted against 
the local governments and interfered where they could with the 
activities of the Austrian secret police. They were particularly active 
in the Papal States, where the government, after Consalvi’s death in 
1824, became both weaker and more corrupt. In the Romagna the 
administration was so bad that it was commonly said, “The Turks 
would be better!” Brigandage flourished as never before. In many 

38 Little about these nationalistic movements was known in western Europe. When, in 
the reign of Louis Philippe, the minister of public instiuction prepared a report urging 
the creatio-n of a chair of Slavic languages in the College de France, he based some of 
his remarks on the idea that Serbian was spoken m Bohemia! 



cases the Carbonari and the brigands worked together. The papal 
government tried the use of terror, but sporadic outbursts of law- 
enforcement with wholesale executions and imprisonments only 
increased the anarchy. In the Kingdom of Naples conditions became 
worse than ever after the death of Ferdinand in 1825; for the new 
king, Francis I, was more brutal and treacherous than his father had 
ever been. The government was left to royal favorites, while the 
king lived with his mistresses, heavily guarded and in hourly dread 
of assassination. In 1828 a revolt broke out, but the government 
easily suppressed it, beheaded the leaders and hung their gory heads 
in front of their own houses. The Neapolitan state, with its prisons 
full, its civil and ecclesiastical offices in the hands of the most venal 
administrators, its towns swarming with spies, and its provinces 
infested with outlaws, would have burst asunder had not the threat 
of Austrian intervention been ever present. 

In the northern part of the peninsula economic conditions had 
improved steadily since 1815. But there was as little political freedom 
as there was in the south. The Hapsburg administration was honest 
and efficient in Lombardy-Venetia and the government at Vienna 
did all it could to distract the populace by supporting the theater 
and the opera and by treating the people to public entertainments. 
The Kingdom of Piedmont, since the failure of the revolution in 
1821, was ruled with an iron hand by the narrow-minded Charles 
Felix. Typical of his rule was the regulation which required all 
university students, among whom was the young Mazzini, to attend 
mass regularly and to go to confession once a month. Tuscany was 
the only haven of freedom; there the Antologia, Vieusseux’s famous 
reading room, and the theater furnished some outlet for Italian 
nationalist and liberal aspirations. Many of the great romantic 
literary works were published in Florence, and romanticism had, as 
Pellico said, become “synonymous with liberalism.” Milan was also 
an important publishing center, but there, in the Italian city most 
alert to the economic movement of the time, the reformers took up a 
program of economic rather than political regeneration. The new 
intellectual movements were evidences of a slow spiritual awaken- 
ing. The younger leaders held aloof from plots and insisted that the 
Italians must first be regenerated culturally and economically. 


Cavour and Mazzini were already watching the movement of ideas 
and events and preparing themselves to become the leaders of the 
next generation. They were already convinced that before Italy’s 
independence could be achieved a majority of the Italian people 
must come to desire such freedom and must be strong enough to 
use it. 


The disintegration of the Ottoman Empire had gone on at an 
accelerated pace throughout the eighteenth century. The whole 
administrative system had fallen largely into the hands of the 
Phanariot Greeks of Constantinople who, with the Greek patriarch 
and the higher Greek clergy, ruled the Christian peoples of the 
Balkans for the sultan. In order to maintain their privileged position, 
the Greek hierarchy did everything in its power to obliterate all 
traces of the old Serbian, Bulgarian, and Rumanian national cul- 
tures; it destroyed manuscripts and books that were not Greek and 
forced the use of Greek in all church schools. For these reasons the 
other Balkan Christians hated the Greeks quite as much as they 
did the Turks. The Ottoman exploitation of the Christian peoples of 
southeastern Europe, galling as it was, had never been uniform or 
very thoroughgoing. The Turks had left to the Serbian and Greek 
rural and urban communities general control over purely local con- 
cerns, which were dealt with by native councils and assemblies; 
as a result neither of these peoples ever lost entirely the experience 
of self-government. During the eighteenth century, as the Turkish 
rule became more inefficient and more oppressive, some of the 
Greek and Serb peasants of independent spirit became brigands. 
Both the Greek \lephts and the Serbian heydu\s , although they 
robbed both Christians and Moslems, were regarded with patriotic 
approbation by the common people because they made private war 
on the Turkish regime. In ,the wars of independence the brigands 
proved to be good fighters against the Moslems. 

In the outlying parts of the Ottoman Empire the sultan’s govern- 
ment had only the loosest hold; in Egypt, Muhammad Ali, and in 
Albania, Ali Pasha of Janina had virtually repudiated the authority 


of the sultan. In Syria, Arabia, Tripoli, Tunis, and Algeria, as in 
Serbia, the local Mohammedan authorities followed orders from 
Constantinople only when it suited their own plans. Throughout 
the empire the highest officials, both Turkish and Greek, used their 
positions to amass private fortunes; the entire administrative regime, 
when it functioned at all, was hardly more than one of organized 
brigandage. The great Moslem landowners in the Balkans, who had 
made their economic and social position hereditary, defied the Otto- 
man officials and were as much the enemies of the sultan’s govern- 
ment as they were the oppressors of the subject Christian peoples. 
The attempts of Selim III (1789-1807) and of his nephew, Mahmud 
II (1808-1839) to reform the whole Ottoman government were met 
by the stubborn resistance of the Moslem landowners and of the 
religious leaders under whose guidance there rallied all the forces 
that had anything to lose by innovations. Mahmud II persisted, but 
his efforts did not begin to bear fruit un ll after the destruction of 
the Janissaries in 1826, and then it was t* o late to prevent the liber- 
ation of the Serbs and the Greeks. The weakness of the Ottoman 
government in the early nineteenth century was well summed up 
in a remark made by the French ambassador to Chateaubriand on 
the occasion of his visit to Constantinople in 1807; “To make an 
alliance with Turkey is the same as putting your arms around a 
corpse to make it stand up!” 39 

In 1804 a new era began in Balkan affairs. Heretofore the chief 
enemies of Turkey had been Austria and Russia, both of which had 
long been planning a partition of the Ottoman Empire; now, for the 
first time, one of the Christian nationalities under Turkish rule 
rose in revolt and maintained itself. The Serbs were a backward, 
agricultural race, ground down by the Turkish administration, the 
great Moslem landowners, and the Greek bishops, but among the 
people the memory of Serbia’s former greatness had been kept alive 
in song and legend. At the end of the eighteenth century a number 
of Serbian scholars had begun to revive interest in the national his- 
tory and literature, and after 1766, when the old Serbian patri- 
archate of Ipek was abolished and the whole Serbian church directly 
organized under the Greek patriarch at Constantinople, the lower 

30 H. Berenger, Chateaubriand (Paris, 1031), 136. 


clergy had become active in arousing a national feeling. The most 
influential of these scholars, Rajic, Obradovic, and Karadzic, found 
a haven in southern Hungary where they could publish their 

This national renaissance was not, however, the immediate cause 
of the Serbian rising of 1804. Exasperation over the high-handed 
conduct and heartless plundering of the Janissary garrison at 
Belgrade drove the neighboring peasants to revolt. The members of 
the famous Janissary corps were no longer recruited from the 
Christian peoples and had long since lost the marvelous discipline 
for which they were once noted. They were now allowed to marry 
and to engage in trade, and had become a privileged corporation 
which terrorized even the sultan. To rid himself of their meddling, 
he garrisoned the most unruly of them in the provinces. In Serbia the 
large Mohammedan landowners joined with the native leaders in 
protests to the sultan against their ruthless and arbitrary administra- 
tion. Thereupon the sultan threatened the Janissaries; if they con- 
tinued in their ways, he would send a force against them, “not of 
Turks, but of men of another faith and another race.” Concluding 
that this could mean only the Serbians, the Janissaries began to 
murder some of the more prominent Serbs. This, in turn, aroused 
the native population to action. 

Among the Serbian peasantry were many men who had learned 
how to fight in the wars of the later eighteenth century between 
Austria and Turkey. It was from this group that the outraged 
people chose an able and fearless chief, a hog merchant, Kara 
(Black) George. Under his direction, the Janissaries were driven 
into the citadel of Belgrade and into several other fortresses. The 
Serbian rebels still considered themselves loyal to the Ottoman re- 
gime, but, flushed with victory, they made ever-increasing demands 
on the Turkish government. The sultan had given his tacit approval 
to the insurrection; but now, refusing to treat with the Serbs, he sent 
an army against them. The war then entered its second phase and 
became one for Serbian autonomy. The Serbs were at first very suc- 
cessful, but the fighting dragged on until 1813 when, at the end of 

40 Cf G. Yakschitch, I/Europe et la resurrection de la Serbie , t8o4-i834 (and edition, 
Paris, 1913); V Srajic, “The Centenary of the Matica/' Slavonic Review t 1928, and 
D. Subotic, “The Serbia of Prince Milos/' ibid., 1924. 



the Russo-Turkish War, the Ottoman government was again in a 
position to concentrate its attention on the rebels. Turkish armies 
invaded Serbia from three sides; Kara George, seeing the hopeless- 
ness of further resistance, fled to Hungary, and the revolt collapsed. 

The Turks took a terrible vengeance on all Serbian families con- 
nected with the revolt. Native leaders who had stood aloof became 
convinced that the Turks were determined to kill off a large part 
of the Serbian population. They had their choice between a new 
revolt or extermination. So on Palm Sunday, 1815, Milos Obrenovic, 
the most prominent leader left in Serbia, raised the standard of 
revolt. Like Kara George, he could neither read nor write, but he 
subscribed to two Austrian newspapers and a French one which his 
secretary read to him regularly; thus he acquired a good under- 
standing of European affairs, and in the second Serbian Revolt 
proved himself a leader of extraordinary resourcefulness. Some of 
the leaders of the first revolt hurried back from Hungary and within 
two years, without foreign help, the Serbs triumphed over the Turk- 
ish rule. The part of the Serbian people who lived about Belgrade 
sent representatives to a national assembly and this body elected 
Milos hereditary prince. Unhappily for Serbia’s future, Milos al- 
lowed Kara George, whom he accused of having poisoned his 
brother, to be murdered in 1817, and so started a bloody feud which 
lasted nearly a century. In 1826, by the Convention of Akkerman, 
Serbia was promised local autonomy under a Russian protectorate, 
and in 1829, by the Treaty of Adrianople and in future agreements 
made between 1830 and 1834, Milos’s title of hereditary prince and 
the right of the Serbs to organize their own national church were 
recognized. Moslem landowners were compelled to sell out and 
withdraw from the country. Except for an annual tribute paid to the 
Ottoman government and the right of the Turks to keep troops in 
some of the fortresses, Serbia was free to govern herself. 

The Serbian Revolts had attracted little attention in western 
Europe, but when in 1821 the statesmen of the Quintuple Alliance 
in session at Laibach heard that the Greeks were in revolt against 
their Turkish masters, it was realized almost immediately that here 
was a European problem of major proportions. From then until 
the freedom of Greece was guaranteed in 1829, no political ques- 


tion was more widely discussed in the chancelleries and in the press 
of Europe. The events of 1821, which were such a surprise to Met- 
ternich and the statesmen of Europe, had been long preparing. Dur- 
ing the eighteenth century many changes had taken place among 
the Greeks of the Ottoman Empire. In the Turkish administra- 
tion they had gained control of important positions, thereby in- 
creasing their fortunes and their influence. Much of the commercial 
activity of the Near East, especially in the regions that border on 
the Black, the JEgean, and the Ionian seas, was in Greek hands, and 
after 1774 Greek-owned ships had been allowed to carry the Rus- 
sian flag. During the French Revolution, when the French mer- 
chantmen were driven from the Mediterranean, Greek captains, 
sometimes carrying the Turkish and sometimes the Russian colors, 
had built up a flourishing trade in grain and other commodities. 

It was the Greeks in the iEgean islands and in all of the great 
ports of the Mediterranean from Marseilles to Odessa who had 
profited most by these commercial and political opportunities. They 
sent their sons to study in French, German, and Italian universities 
where they came in contact with the ideology of western Europe, 
especially with the French liberal thought of the philosophes . At 
home they organized schools and secret societies and patronized 
the nationalist writers who were trying to arouse the Greek people. 
The mass of the peasants on the mainland of the Greek peninsula, 
though they were of the same race and spoke the same language, 
seemed, in their poverty and their cultural backwardness, to belong 
to a totally different nationality. The misunderstandings that in- 
evitably existed between these peasants on the one hand, and the 
cultivated islanders and the Greek scholars and philanthropists on 
the other, became much more sharply defined in the course of the 
War of Independence. 

The Greek merchants in the Mediterranean ports and on the 
islands founded a series of excellent schools, and in Chios they es- 
tablished a university. 41 From these centers was spread a knowledge 
of the writings of Rhigas, of Koraes, and of a number of other 
nationalist propagandists. Rhigas, a Vlach who had been inspired 

41 Cf. S. T Lascaris, “Un Institut littcraire a Corfu sous Napoleon," Revue des 
etudes napoleon je-nnes, 1925, and H. Pernot, “Coray," L’ Acropolc, 1933 


tsar’s chief ministers, Capodistrias. He was a native of Corfu, one 
of the Ionian Islands which were under the enlightened rule of 
the English. Capodistrias, however, refused to accept the headship 
of the society. In 1820 a general in the Russian army, Prince Alex- 
ander Ypsilanti, son of one of the Greek Hospodars of Moldavia, 
became its leader. 

The Hetaina planned a revolt for 1825, but when the leaders 
saw that the Turkish forces were occupied in what appeared to be 
a losing conflict with AH Pasha of Janina, the rebel Albanian who 
had built up a state in Epirus, they decided to act at once. On March 
6, 1821, Ypsilanti, crossing the Pruth, declared that his expedition was 
“sanctioned by a great power,” which could only mean Russia, and 
called on the Rumanian people to rise against the Turks. But the 
Rumanians, who hated the Greek clergy and their Greek governors, 
the Hospodars , refused to have anything to do with the cause. 
Ypsilanti, however, was able to seize Jassy and part of Moldavia. 
He moved on to Wallachia where a peasant rising, led by Tudor 
Vladimirescu, threatened the power of the Rumanian landlords. 
Realizing the danger, the latter quickly made terms with Vladi- 
mirescu, and turned their efforts to helping the Turks defeat 
Ypsilanti and his Greeks. Ypsilanti foolishly had Vladimirescu put 
to death, which increased Rumanian resistance to his cause. Tsar 
Alexander, now quite under Metternich’s domination, denounced 
the expedition and refused all help to the revolutionaries. The Greek 
Patriarch of Constantinople was obliged by the sultan to excom- 
municate the insurgent leader. Hard pressed by the Turkish troops 
and left without any support either from Russia or from the 
Rumanians, Ypsilanti fled to Austria, where he was thrown into 
prison. The enterprise collapsed. The only important result of the 
whole incident was that the Ottoman government in 1822 replaced 
the Greek Hospodars with native Rumanian princes, who acted 
thereafter as governors for the Turks. From this change the Ru- 
manians date the beginnings of their movement for national 
independence. 44 

Barely a month after Ypsilanti crossed the Pruth, another and more 

44 The most useful works on the Greek Revolution are the older work of G Finlay, 
History of Grcoce (new ed , Oxford, 1877), VI and VIT, and the monograph of C. W„ 
Crawley, The Question of Greek Independence (Cambridge, 1930I. 


2 54 

serious revolt, also engineered by the Hetairia , broke out in the 
Morea. With wild fury the Greek peasants turned on the Turkish 
population and murdered all who could not take refuge in the 
walled towns; from the beginning the war was marked on both 
sides by horrible butchery. By May, 1821, the Turkish rule in the 
Morea was at an end. 

Meanwhile, the Turks had begun to make reprisals. On Easter 
Day the Greek Patriarch of Constantinople and three Greek arch- 
bishops were hanged in their sacred vestments. After the bodies 
had hung for three days outside the archiepiscopal palace, they 
were thrown into the Bosphorus. This aroused the Greeks all 
over the Mediterranean world and, when the news of it reached 
western Europe, it created a great wave of sympathy for the 
Greek cause. Elsewhere, especially in Thessaly, Macedonia, and 
Asia Minor, the Turks pillaged the Greek churches, massacred the 
men, and sold hundreds of women into slavery. The attention 
of the great powers was now focused on Greece, and Tsar Alex- 
ander proposed at once to intervene. Metternich, however, vigorously 
opposed interference and insisted that the insurgents were simply 
rebels against the established order, like the revolutionaries of Spain 
and Naples. He rightly suspected that Russia might use the affair 
as an excuse to continue her advance into the Balkans which she 
had been making since the time of Catherine the Great. Thus, while 
Greeks and Turks were fighting in the Near East, there began a 
long series of diplomatic negotiations which involved all the powers 
of the Quintuple Alliance, but which produced no joint action 
until 1826. 

On the Greek side there was little organization and much jealousy 
and double dealing, but the Turkish army was so occupied with 
fighting Ali Pasha, who was captured and beheaded only in 1822, 
that the Greeks enjoyed striking successes in the early stages of the 
struggle and were able to fend off their oppressors for several years. 
Food and army supplies were sent by the Philhellenes, while a few 
ardent European and American adventurers went out to Greece to 
help the insurgents. 40 Even the governments of the powers, although 

45 The importance of tlie contribution of the Philhellenes in the whole struggle is 
brought out by Finlay. “The empty coffers of the Greek government continued to be 
replenished with European gold, and the Greek armies reinforced by Euiopean volunteers. 


they were still officially neutral, found it year by year harder to resist 
the pressure of these Philhellenes. Diplomats who at first referred 
slightingly to Philhellenism as “the clamor of a faction,” were 
speaking by 1823 of “the sympathy of all Europe” for the Greek 

During the years 1821 and 1822 the Greeks captured and held 
the fortresses of Navarino, Tripolitsa — where they butchered thou- 
sands of Turks in cold blood — Missolonghi, Athens, Nauplia, and 
Corinth. On the sea they were equally successful. They sank the 
best of the Turkish warships and drove the others into the Dar- 
danelles, though before this the Turks had massacred or sold into 
slavery thirty thousand of the Greek inhabitants of Chios, the most 
horrible incident of the war. 46 On sea and on land the Greeks 
seemed destined to win a speedy and complete victory. In January, 
1822, a national assembly which met at Epidauros proclaimed the 
independence of Greece and promulgated a constitution which shows 
American influence. The Greek forces were, however, very dis- 
organized; officials refused to follow the regulations of the central 
government; military officers would not obey their superiors; bitter 
jealousies divided group from group. In 1824 a veritable civil war 
raged on the mainland between the forces of the government and a 
group of peasants in the Morea who blamed the provisional regime 
for favoring the wishes of the islanders at the expense of the main- 
landers. In spite of this, the Turks were so weak that they were 
unable to crush the rebellion. Early in 1823 the British government, 
chiefly to stop the Greeks from preying on British shipping in the 
Mediterranean, recognized the Greeks as belligerents and opened 
diplomatic negotiations with them. This move aroused Metternich, 
who did not want any power to give favors to the rebels and who 
did not like the idea of England’s meddling in Near Eastern affairs. 
He therefore proposed to the tsar that Austria and Russia move 

till Reshid Pasha could exclaim, with bitterness and with truth, ‘We are no longer 
fighting the Greeks, but all Europe!’ . . . The greater part of the Greeks who bore 
arms against the Turks weie fed by provisions supplied by the Greek committees in 
England, Switzerland, France, and Germany . . . w T hile the Greek committees in the 
United Slates directed their attention to the relief of the civilian population. The amount 
of provisions and clothing sent from America was very great Cargo after cargo arrived/' 
G. Finlay, History of Greece (new ed , Oxford, 1877) VI, 437. 

Cf P. P Argenti, The Massacres of Chios (London, 1932). 



jointly against Turkey, but, as they could not agree on a course ot 
procedure, no acdon was taken. 

The war entered a new phase when, in February, 1825, Ibrahim 
Pasha, the son of Muhammad All, brought a large military force 
from Egypt. Mahmud II, the Ottoman sultan, had hoped to crush 
the Greeks without the help of the Egyptian usurper, and had de- 
layed asking for aid until the insurgents had driven him to the wall 
When the Turkish situation became desperate, Mahmud was forced 
to make a trip to Cairo to appeal for help. Muhammad Ali agreed 
to send aid, though only on condition that he be allowed to govern 
Crete and that his son, Ibrahim, be made governor of the Morea. 
As the sultan was in no position to refuse, an agreement was drawn 
up on Muhammad All’s terms and a military expedition left Egypt 
for Crete. Using Crete as a base, Ibrahim reduced the Greek islands 
of the iEgean and then took over to the mainland a well-equipped 
and well-disciplined army. The internal quarrels among the Greeks 
made it possible for him to seize Navarino and establish a military 
and naval base on the mainland. From there he began the sys- 
tematic reduction of the country. The Greeks for a time stopped 
fighting among themselves, and turned valiantly on the invaders, 
but their guerrilla bands were no match for the disciplined troops 
of Ibrahim. In vain did the Greeks appeal to the powers. They 
tried to place themselves under British protection and pleaded with 
the English government to send them a king. In 1825, when this 
appeal was made, Canning was more friendly toward the Greek 
cause than any other European statesman, but he refused to aban- 
don England’s neutrality. So the Greeks were forced to continue 
the fight alone. 

Fortress after fortress in the Morea fell into Moslem hands and 
in central Greece the Egyptian fleet, cooperating with a Turkish 
army, besieged Missolonghi, one of the last fortresses held by the 
insurgents. On April 22, 1826, after it had become clear that the 
Moslems would finally starve them out, the entire population 
gathered at the gates, prepared to make a desperate sally. Part of 
the Greek forces cut their way through, but the besiegers closed in 
upon the rest and put most of them to the sword. Part of the 
remnant, seeing all chance of escape cut off, set fire to the powder 


magazines and perished in the explosion. Some three thousand 
women and children, the last survivors, were sold into slavery. When 
the victorious troops took possession of the smoking and blood- 
stained ruins of the heroic town, they must have believed the final 
collapse of the Greek cause near. 

At Constantinople, Mahmud II, disgusted with the poor showing 
made by the Turkish troops, turned on the Janissaries. They would 
neither fight themselves nor allow the sultan to organize an effective 
army without them. With the help of the conservative Mohammedan 
religious and social forces they stubbornly interfered with the sul- 
tan’s reforming efforts. Mahmud now ordered the disbandment 
of the corps, whereupon, as was expected, the Janissaries revolted. 
But preparations had long been made to quell them. One June 
morning in 1826, the inhabitants of Pera, looking across the Golden 
Horn, saw two great columns of smoke rising above the minarets 
of Stambul. The smoke announced that the great barracks of 
the Janissaries had been fired. Inside the old capital of the Byzantine 
emperors a bloody massacre was taking place. The government 
troops mowed down the rebels with a fierce artillery fire. Nearly 
the whole Janissary corps in Constantinople perished. At the same 
time the sultan ordered the expulsion and confiscation of the 
property of the Bektashi dervish order, an heretical group closely 
associated with the Janissaries and with the forces of religious con- 
servatism. The Ottoman government was at last freed of an old 
burden. This high-handed reform and the fall of Athens, the 
last important stronghold held by the Greeks, seemed to seal the 
doom of the revolutionary cause. But the Greeks clung to the hope 
of defeating the Turks and, while the siege of Athens (1827) was 
still going on, the National Assembly elected Capodistrias, the most 
eminent living Greek, president of Greece for seven years. 

The course of the war, which had by this time aroused the in- 
terest of the whole western world, now took an important turn. 
Nicholas I, the new ruler of Russia, unlike Alexander, had taken 
no part in the formation of the Quadruple Alliance, and had no 
intention of taking orders from Metternich in a question of such 
vital interest to Russia. In March, 1826, Nicholas made a series of 
demands on the Sublime Porte in regard to its failure to remove 



its troops from Wallachia and Moldavia, as promised in 1812 by 
the Treaty of Bucharest. At the same time, Canning had come to 
believe that it was to England's commercial and political interest 
to bring the Greek question to a settlement. He was convinced, too. 
that the Greeks would some day gain their local autonomy and 
he did not want them to owe this liberty entirely to Russia. On 
the other hand, he was fearful of involving England in anothet 
war. His was, indeed, a difficult program, for, while it was di- 
rected toward curbing Russian influence in the Near East, and to- 
ward preserving the Ottoman Empire, it was aimed also at keeping 
England out of war. Early in 1826 Canning sent the Duke of Wel- 
lington to St. Petersburg. Nicholas and Wellington began to go 
over the situation. They were faced with the fact that Ibrahim Pasha 
was evidently trying to exterminate the Greek people and intending 
to settle the Morea with Mohammedan colonists from Africa. This 
was more than either Russia or England would stand, and the con- 
ference soon eventuated in the Protocol of St. Petersburg (April 4, 
1826). By this agreement the Russian and British governments were 
to demand that Greece, though continuing to pay tribute to Turkey, 
be given self-government. The Sublime Porte made no reply and 
did not even come to terms with Nicholas on the subject of the 
removal of the Turkish troops from the Danubian Principalities, 
and on the question of Serbia, until October. The Convention of 
Akkerman, signed by Russia and Turkey on October 6, 1826, showed 
the effects of Nicholas’ threats. The Turks yielded completely in 
Serbian and Rumanian affairs and accepted the Russian demands. 
Nothing, however, was said about the Greek question. 

In the meantime, Canning had grown more impatient. He pro- 
posed to the tsar common action to force mediation on the sultan. 
Efforts were made to get the other powers to join England and 
Russia. Metternich, who had used all his wiles trying to prevent 
any action in favor of the Greeks, now attempted to prevent Can- 
ning’s proposal from being accepted by France. It was useless, for 
all parties in France, even Charles X, had by this time come to be 
sympathetic toward the Greek cause. So, in July, 1827, England, 
France, and Russia signed the Treaty of London. This not only 
confirmed and extended the agreement made by Nicholas I and 

disintegration OF RESTORATION, 1820-1830 259 

Wellington, but provided in addition that both sides be warned that 
if they refused to stop fighting the contracting powers would pre- 
vent all collision between the contending parties, “without, however, 
taking any part in the hostilities between them.” Ambiguity as to 
just how the ‘agreement was to be enforced was to make future 
procedure difficult. In August, 1827, the mediation of the three 
powers was accepted by the Greeks but refused by the sultan. 

The solution of the whole complicated affair — in which England, 
Russia, and France were proposing to intervene, but also agreeing 
not to fight — now passed from the hands of the suspicious and 
hesitating diplomats to those of the naval commanders of the three 
powers. Codnngton, the British admiral in charge of the allied 
fleets, had received orders to intercept all Egyptian and Turkish 
ships coming to Greece, but to prevent his action “from degenerat- 
ing into hostilities.” When he asked Stratford Canning, the British 
ambassador at Constantinople, just how this was to be managed, 
Canning replied, “The prevention of supplies is ultimately to be en- 
forced . . . when all other means are exhausted, by cannon shot.” 47 
Ibrahim’s fleet was in Navarino Bay and the Egyptian commander 
was informed that none of his ships would be allowed to leave. 
But as the Moslem troops continued to burn villages and to mas- 
sacre or to starve the inhabitants, and as the unreasonable behavior 
of the Greeks at Patras seemed to make further negotiations im- 
possible, the allied commanders decided to sail into Navarino Bay 
in order to remonstrate again with Ibrahim and to force the Turks 
to declare an armistice. On their way in, one of the British ships 
was fired upon. The fire was at once returned and the engage- 
ment soon became general (October 20, 1827). Before the day was 
over, the Turco-Egyptian fleet was a wreck. Turkey had suffered 
her greatest naval disaster since Lepanto. 48 

But Greece was not yet freed. The Allies had not intended to 
go to war with Turkey, but only to force an armistice and compel 
recognition of the autonomy of Greece. The allied powers did noth- 
ing to follow up the victory at Navarino, which Metternich be- 
moaned as a “dreadful catastrophe.” Canning was dead and the 

4 ‘ C. W. Crawley, The Question of Greek Independence (Cambridge, 1930), 84. 

"Cf. G. Doum, Navarm (Cairo, 1927), and E Driault, L’expedition de Crete et de 
Moree , 1823-1828 (Cano, 1930). 


Duke o£ Wellington who succeeded him induced George IV to 
apologize to the Porte and offer regrets “that this conflict should 
have occurred with the naval forces of an ancient ally” 

The attitude of the conservative governments encouraged the 
Turks to continue the war. Moslem religious fanaticism had by 
this time flamed high, and the government had great popular sup- 
port when it denounced Russia and demanded satisfaction. The 
tsar, too, was not in a mood to yield. Declaring that he was not 
interested in the Greek rebels but in the maintenance of the rights 
of Russia, he brushed aside all efforts to restrain him and decided 
on war with Turkey (April 26, 1828). The situation was really 
favorable for Russia, for the tsar could claim with some show of 
justice that he was acting under the terms of the Treaty of London 
and that the war was only the last method to force mediation upon 
the Turk. The French government accepted this interpretation with- 
out question as did also the Prussians. Metternich was hostile, but 
unlikely to make an issue of the matter. The English, too, refused 
to admit the legitimacy of the Russian action, and claimed that 
the Treaty of London was designed only to effect a peaceful settle- 
ment. But the English government was distracted by serious domestic 
issues and showed no disposition to intervene against Russia. 

The Russians ought to have won an easy victory. The Turks were 
worn out by years of conflict and the Turkish army had not yet 
been completely reorganized after the destruction of the Janissaries. 
But Nicholas was overconfident. He departed for the front with an 
immense retinue and made all preparations for a triumphal entry 
into Constantinople. The campaign went well until the Russians 
had crossed the Danube (June, 1828), but then they began to meet 
with unexpected resistance. The Turkish garrisons at Shumla, 
Varna, and Silistria fought with desperate valor and religious furor. 
It was only in October that Varna was taken, and it was then too 
late in the season to continue operations. 

During the winter the Russians made elaborate preparations for 
a second campaign. General Diebitsch won an important victory 
at Kulevcha in June, 1829, and thereby opened the road over the 
Balkans. The Russian forces advanced rapidly, crossing the Balkan 
Mountains for the first time in history. Adrianople fell in August, 


the Turkish resistance collapsed and in a short time some of the 
cavalry squadrons of Diebitsch had advanced to the very outskirts 
of Constantinople. The Ottoman Empire seemed to be on the point 
of collapse. But appearances were deceptive. Diebitsch had only 
about fifteen thousand men with him and many of these were sick 
with fever. Not only was he unable to take the coveted city; he could 
not maintain himself in his advanced position for long. The Rus- 
sians were therefore obliged to give up their aspirations for the 
time being, and were only too glad to accept the mediation of the 
Prussian officer, Major von Muffling, who brought the two com- 
batants together. 

On September 14, 1829, the Treaty of Adjrianople was signed by 
the Russian and Turkish plenipotentiaries. The territorial changes 1 
of the settlement were not great. The Turks lost some coastal ter- 
ritory in Asia Minor, and in Europe abandoned control of the 
mouths of the Danube, the frontier being moved from the northern 
to the southern branch. In addition they agreed to pay an indemnity 
of 15,000,000 ducats in ten years. Pending the payment of this sum 
the Russians were to occupy the Danubian Principalities, from which 
all Moslem inhabitants were to be evacuated. The Turkish fortresses 
north of the Danube were to be razed, so that Ottoman control in 
what is now Rumania became a purely nominal one. The Treaty 
of Adrianople gained for Russia tremendous prestige in the Near 
East and gave her a practical protectorate over the Principalities. 
Despite the apparent moderation of the terms, the tsar had made 
a decided advance towards the ultimate goal. 

The future of Greece was left to the three allied powers by the 
terms of the Treaty of Adrianople, and the detailed arrangements 
were relegated to a conference in London. By the London Protocol, 
February 3, 1830, Greece was declared an independent kingdom 
under the guarantee of England, Russia, and France. Prolonged 
negotiations were necessary before the Greek boundaries were es- 
tablished and before a prince could be found to rule over the new 
state. The crown was offered to Prince John of Saxony, and, when 
he refused it, to Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg, who accepted 
and then withdrew because of the inadequate boundaries given the 
Greek state and because of the dark picture of the Greek situation 


sent him by Capodistrias, who hoped to remain president o£ 
Greece for life. The whole question hung fire until the assassina- 
tion of Capodistrias by his political opponents in October, 1831. 
Negotiations between the powers were resumed and finally the son 
of Kang Ludwig of Bavaria, an enthusiastic Philheilene, accepted 
the headship of the Greek state, whose boundaries were now some- 
what enlarged. In February, 1833, he ascended the throne as Otto I. 49 

The liberation of the Greek people had made a tremendous im- 
pression all over Europe, for it was the first great victory for the 
principle of nationality since 1815. The classical tradition in educa- 
tion and in art and the religious issue had played into the hands 
of the liberals of Europe. A greater breach in the bulwarks of reac- 
tion had now been made than those effected by England’s with- 
drawal from the European Alliance or by the minor concessions 
won by the liberals within the various states in the years 1815 to 
1830. It was this breakdown of the international forces of conserv- 
atism that made possible the liberal victories of 1830. 

40 The new Greek state included only the areal south of a line connecting the gulfs 
of Arta and Volo. Epirus, Thessaly, Crete, and a number of the islands were excluded; 
thus the majority of the Greek people was left under Ottoman rule and the Greek king- 
dom began with a great irredentist problem. This unwise decision was due to the British 
fear that the Greek state would inevitably become a Russian satellite; hence it should 
be kept weak. 

Chapter Nine 


The decade from 1820 to 1830 had seen the steady disintegration 
of reactioruTn England the control of the old parties was passing 
into the hands of younger and more liberal leaders. In spite of the 
resistance of the king, of the Anglican clergy, and of most of the 
higher aristocracy, important political and social reforms were 
being made. It was evident that still more fundamental changes 
were certain to come either by legal means or through violence. 
On the continent Austria’s power was being undermined by lib- 
eral and nationalist movements. Charles X of France was slowly 
driving his people into a mood of bitter resentment that could 
eventuate only in revolution. In the Netherlands the tension be- 
tween the Belgian people and the Dutch authorities was steadily 
growing. Internationally, the system of reaction, already seriously 
weaken ed , by_ England’s hostility, broke down completely when 
England, Russia, and France intervened in the affairs of the Otto- 
man Empire and freed the Greeks. By 1830 the whole political order 
was so unstable that a serious disturbance in any of the capitals, of 
western Europe would almost certainly lead to outbreaks in a num- 
ber of other states. 


The French people had received the news of the appointment of 
the Polignac ministry, as Pasquier said, “with an emotion impos- 
sible to describe”; the Globe declared that the news had divided 
France in two, “on one side is the court, on the other the nation!” 
Everyone assumed that it was only a matter of months before the 
king would try a coup d'etat. In fact, Charles made no secret of his 
int entio ns. J; c The French,” he told Portalis, “wanted a charter; they 
were given one, . . . but in the end this charter cannot keep me 




from doing my will.” 1 I& like fashion the Ultra press took for 
granted that in any conflict between the king and the Chambers it 
would be the Chambers that would yield. The Drafeau Blanc , for 
example, announced that “the governing power belongs to the 
king, who has not the right either to alienate it or to destroy it.” 
Later it declared, “if the ministers command a majority, they will 
save the throne with this majority; if not, they will save it without 
a majority. The majority is the king!” 2 Already the Ultras were 
declaring that Article 14 of the Charter, which allowed the king 
To issue “ordinances necessary for the execution of the laws and for 
the surety of the state’ 5 meant the right to defy parliament. 

The liberals of all factions were conducting a lively campaign 
in the prejss. The Constitutibnnel and the Journal des Debats, aided 
after February, 1830, by the National, Thiers 5 new journal, and the 
Globe, criticized the new ministry with increasing bitterness.. Their 
line of attack was to defend the Charter against the king; as Thiers 
said, “Let us shut the Bourbons up in the Charter, and close the 
doors tightly; they will inevitably jump out of the window! 55 
Thiers took the lead in preparing the nation for a “French 1688. 55 
It was to be a quiet affair, “a change of persons but not of things; 
. . . everything would take place calmly; one family would replace 
another 55 ; jthere would be nothing bloody about such a change; 
“everything would be legal. 5 ’ 3 This was clever ^propaganda. Thiers, 
and his backers, Talleyrand and Laffitte, all of whom were far 
from being revolutionaries themselves, knew that the middle class 
would resent any violation of the Charter. It was quite possible, 
however, "tEat”” “Fourgeois lear of revolution would prove stronger 
than bourgeois devotion to the constitution. T he midd le class must 
ffee convinced not only that the Bourbons were a menace to exist- 
ing msfitutlons, but tHaF tKHr TxpuIsion need not entail a social 
or economic upset. ^The society Aide-toi, le del t’aidera became 
more active, revived its local committees, and helped to spread the 
idea that if the king refused to cooperate with parliament, the lib- 
erals would refuse to pay taxes. Among groups of republicans, 

1 S. Charlety, La Restauration (Paris, 1921), 346. 

2 Charlety, op. cit., 347. 

8 Charlety, op. cit., 352. 


which included workingmen and students, the idea o£ armed re- 
sistance was being discussed. 

For several months after their appointment in August, 1829, the 
ministers went along with no definite program beyond a vague 
desire to curly the press and to modify the electoral laws— forms of 
reaction that were in no wise novel. They had six months to plan 
before the Chambers met, but they devoted this time almost ex- 
clusively to foreign affairs. Folignac hoped to distract attention 
from domestic difficulties by achieving victories abroad. The suc- 
cessful cooperation of Russia and France in the War of Greek Inde- 
pendence emboldened him to form a chimerical plan for the parti- 
tion of the Ottoman Empire, which he intended to submit to 
Nicholas I. The King of Holland, so ran this scheme, would re- 
place the sultan at Constantinople, and the Netherlands would be 
divided; Belgium would go to France, Holland to Prussia, the 
Dutch colonies to England. Serbia and Bosnia would be assigned 
to Austria, Wallachia and Moldavia to Russia. The main object of 
the plan was to reshape the map of Europe so that, without fighting 
for it, France would acquire the coveted Rhine frontier. Before the 
project was sent to St. Petersburg, the Treaty of Adrianople was 
signed, and the proposals actually made to Nicholas were less ambi- 
tious. They included, however, the demand that Prussia cede to 
France territory along the Rhine. When Prussia rejected the idea, 
the whole plan was dropped. 4 Polignac then turned to an enter- 
prise more nearly within the range of possibility; he would punish 
the Dey of Algeria for his treatment of French citizens and of the 
French consul. An expedition against the Dey was prepared. Rus- 
sia gave her cordial assent, and Austria and Prussia remained neu- 
tral, though England protested. The ministers placed their highest 
hopes on the success of this Algerian expedition. 

In March, 1830, the Chambers met, and the conflict between 
Charles X and the nation soon reached a crisis. The king made 
veiled threats in his address from the throne, and the liberals, led by 
Royer-Collard, Guizot, Laffitte, and Casimir Perier, prepared an 
answer stating that the monarch should cooperate with the ma- 
jority in parliament and indirectly demanding the dismissal of the 

* Cf. A. Pingaud, *‘Le projet Polignac,” Revue d'histoire diplomatique , 1900. 



ministry. 5 This defiant address to the king was voted in the Cham- 
ber of Deputies by 221 against 181; the ministry replied by dissolv- 
ing the Chamber and calling for new elections. 

The whole country was in a state of feverish excitement. The lib- 
erals called for the reelection of all the now famcrus “221”; the 
Ultras and the upper clergy demanded their defeat. The king took 
the extraordinary step of issuing a royal proclamation appealing 
Tor votes favorable to the ministry and so put himself in a position 
where the rejection of the ministry would also involve his own re- 
jection. On July 9 the news of the fall of Algiers reached Paris. It 
was hoped that this would bring votes favorable to the king and the 
ministry. Polignac assured Charles X that the government would 
secure a majority, but when the ballots were counted it was dis- 
covered that the opposition had grown from 221 to 274. The min- 
isters now decided on a coup d'etat. Nicholas I warned the king 
against it, but Charles knew that Metternich was favorable and he 
„was being urged on by Polignac, by the Archbishop of Paris, and 
by members of his own family. After long deliberations the min- 
isters signed a set of five Ordinances on July 25. The first forbade 
any publication without gdvernment authorization, the second dis- 
solved the newly elected Chamber of Deputies which had never 
met, the third reduced the electorate from 100,000 to 25,000 and 
changed the method of election, the fourth called for new elections 
and the meeting of the Chambers in September, and the last con- 
tained a list of Ultras appointed to hold high office. Charles X and 
Polignac could find some legal justification for these measures in 
Article 14 of the Charter. Three of the Ordinances were concerned 
with matters that had been regulated by royal decree before, and 
in none of them was there a ny m ention of abolishing the Chambers 
or the Charter. But the nation understood these new regulations in 
aTotally different sense, for the mass of Frenchmen „ believed that 
the king and the ministry had abrogated the Charter. 

The Ordinances were published in the Moniteur and the ministers 

5 In this address to the king, the attitude of the opposition was summed up as follows, 
“The Charter piovides for the intervention of the country in all deliberations on public 
questions This intervention ought to be positive in its results . . The Charter has also 
made necessary the agreement of the political views of your government with the wishes 
of your people Sire, we are obliged to say that this agreement does not exist.*’ L. Cahew 
et A. Mathiez, Les lois frangaises dc 181$ a. T914 (31 d edition, Paris, 1927), 57 


seem to have imagined that nothing would happen. No military 
preparations were made; most of the regular army was away from 
the capital, and Marmont, who had been designated to command 
in Paris in case of trouble, was not even informed of the Ordinances. 
Polignac told 'the king that the nation, being prosperous, was not 
interested in parliaments and election laws and that there would be 
no trouble. He also reassured Charles by telling him of repeated 
apparitions of the Virgin Mary who always promised him success. 
“Whenever I visit the ministry of foreign affairs/' wrote the British 
ambassador, “I feel as though I were entering the fools' paradise 
of Milton!" 

Paris was soon in revolt. Although the opposition forces had no 
central direction, a number of groups began to act separately. First 
the journalists met and delegated Thiers to draw up a protest. In it 
he announced, “The legal regime has ended, that of force has be- 
gun. Obedience ceases to be a duty. We shall try to publish our 
journals without asking for the authorization which is imposed 
on us. It is for France to judge how far resistance should go." 6 The 
intention of the forty-three journalists who signed this statement 
was not to start a revolution but to force the king to dismiss the 
ministry. On July 26 the manifesto appeared in the Temps and in 
Thiers' National ; it was read aloud in cafes and on the street cor- 
ners. During the evening of the same day crowds gathered in some 
of the squares and shouted, “Long live the Charter!" and “Down 
with the ministers!" While this was going on, a group of liberal 
deputies held an informal meeting in the home of one of their 
number, but they decided to take no action and to await devel- 

The first effective move was made on the 27th by a group of 
ardent young Republicans led by Auguste Fabre, Cavaignac, Trelat, 
and Raspail. They cooperated with some of the students in the 
various higher schools of Paris and with groups of workingmen 
who had been thrown out of work when the danger of disturb- 
ances led to the closing of many factories and shops. In some in- 
stances the workmen had been supplied with arms by their employ- 
ers. Led by students from the Ecole Polytechnique, they threw up 

8 Charlety, op. cit., 373. 


barricades in the streets. On the 28th the insurgents took the Hotel 
de Ville and hoisted the tricolor. The populace sympathized with 
the resistance; men o£ the middle classes and workers; “the frock 
coat cheek by jowl with the blouse,” paraded the boulevards. 
Everywhere shouts of “Down with the Bourbons!” 'how took the 
place of shouts of “Down with the ministers!” 7 

The government troops found it impossible to move through 
many of the streets, especially through the narrower ones. Barricades 
of paving stones, trees, barrels, boxes, all piled together, met them 
at every turn, and missiles of all sorts were hurled at their heads 
from upper windows and housetops. The king was hunting at 
Saint-Cloud, Pohgnac was still hoping for divine aid, but Marmont 
and the royal troops were rapidly losing control of Paris. By the 
evening of the 29th the city was in the hands of the insurgents. 
The Parisians in the Trois Glorieuses behaved with remarkable 
sobriety; little damage was done; in fact, the only buildings sacked 
were the establishment of the Missionnaires on Mont Valerien, 
and the Jesuit house at Montrouge, which seems to show that the 
religious, even more than the political, policies of the Bourbons had 
aroused the French people, at least in the capital. Charles X, looking 
through a spy-glass from the terrace at Saint Cloud, saw the tricolor 
floating from the towers of Notre Dame. He sent word that he 
would withdraw the Ordinances and dismiss the ministers. When 
he found that these concessions had no effect, he abdicated in favor 
of his grandson, the Due de Bordeaux, and when he learned that 
none of the groups in Paris would treat with him, he fled to Eng- 
land on a vessel belonging to the Bonapartes. 

In Paris the struggle now shifted to a quarrel between the young 
republicans who held the Hotel de Ville and who wished to make 
Lafayette president, and a group of deputies and journalists, repre- 
senting the upper bourgeoisie, who were determined to make the 
Due d’Or leans king. This group — which included Talleyrand, 
Thiers, and Laffitte, who had managed the business affairs of the 
House of Orleans for twelve years — had been very active since the 
28th. On the 30th the Parisians awoke to find the city placarded 

^Cf. 1830 Etudes sur Jcs mouvements Ubcraux ct nationaux de 1830 (Paris, 1932), and 
P. Mantoux, “Patrons et ouvriers en juillet, 1830,” Revue d’lnstoire modcrnc et cow 
temporame, 1901-02. 


with bills praising the activities of the Due d’Orleans during the 
French Revolution, proclaiming his present liberalism, and propos- 
ing his candidacy for the French throne. 8 The statement had been 
drawn up by Thiers. In the meantime Talleyrand, still die prince of 
negotiators, had not been idle. Through his efforts, the diplomatic 
corps at Paris refused to side with Charles X, even after it was 
known that he had withdrawn the Ordinances. Talleyrand was 
also in communication with the Due d’Orleans. The group of lib- 
eral deputies, who had been meeting each day, now sent Thiers to 
offer the headship of the government to the duke. The stealthy 
and cautious duke refused to see him, and the matter had to be 
arranged between Thiers and the duke’s sister, the masterful Mile. 
Adelaide. As a result of these negotiations, Orleans came into Paris 
and on the 31st, wearing the tricolor, he made a progress from his 
city residence, the Palais Royal, through long lines of silent and 
sullen men, to the Hotel de Ville. 9 

Everything now depended on Lafayette. After some discussion 
within the Hotel de Ville, the two appeared at a window, wrapped 
in the tricolor. They embraced, and the populace below shouted, 
“Long live Lafayette!” and “Long live the Due d’Orleans!” The 
next day Lafayette, on his own initiative, went to talk over the 
situation with Orleans, who, in general terms, declared himself a 
republican and praised the Constitution of the United States, though 
he in no way committed himself. Lafayette went away satisfied. The 
faith of the masses in this “Hero of Two Worlds” is difficult to ex- 
plain, though his betrayal of the republican cause was undoubtedly 
due more to his general confusion than to any duplicity. Within 

8 “Charles X can never return to Paris; he has shed the blood of the people. 

“The Republic would expose us to dangerous divisions; it would involve us in hostilities 
with Europe. 

“The Due d’Orleans is a prince devoted to the cause of the revolution. 

“The Due d’Orleans has never fought against us. 

“The Due d’Orleans was at Jemmapes. 

“The Due d’Orleans is a citizen-king. 

“The Due d’Orleans has carried the tricolor under the enemies’ fire; the Due d’Orleans 
alone can carry it again. We will have no other flag. 

“The Due d’Orldans does not commit himself. He awaits the expression of our wishes. 
Let us proclaim those wishes, and he will accept the Charter as we have always under- 
stood it, and as we have always desired it. It is from the French people that he will 
hold his crown.” J. M. S. Allison, Monsieur Thiers (New York, 1932), 68. 

8 Cf. H. Malo, “Thiers et les journdes de juillet 1830,” Revue des deux tnondes* 




a few days, 252 members of the old Chamber of Deputies met and 
revised the Charter, promised other reforms, and formally offered 
the crown to the Due d’Orleans, who took the title of Louis Phi- 
lippe, King of the French People. The new monarch accepted the 
revised Charter and the tricolor. The preamble to the Charter, in 
which Louis XVIII had declared it his gift to the French people, 
with the implication that the king, having given it, could also take 
it away, was struck out. Some of the terms of the document itself 
were modified, Article 14 was shorn of its absolutist possibilities, 
and the article which proclaimed Catholicism “the religion of the 
state” was changed to read that Catholicism was “the religion of 
the majority of Frenchmen.” The new king promised that “the 
Charter should henceforth be a reality” and all parties seemed for 
the time to be contented to have “a throne surrounded by repub- 
lican institutions.” The fighting had been done by the workers, 
but the upper middle class appropriated the fruits of the victory. 
The republicans were bitterly disappointed, though, as Cavaignac 
said, “We only gave way because we were not strong enough. Later 
on it will be different!” 


The news of the success of the July Revolution flew across Eu- 
rope; it was the most exciting news men had heard since Waterloo. 
As one^ German liberal wrote later, “For fifteen years it seemed 
as if the^eternal generative power of the world’s history were para- 
lyzed, ^or fifteen years they had been building and cementing, 
holding congresses, forming alliances, spreading the net of police 
supervision over the whole of Europe, forging fetters, peopling 
prisons, erecting gallows. And then three days sujficed to overturn 
one throne, and make all the others tremble.” 10 In the Low Coun- 
tries the news of the Paris upheaval soon precipitated a revolt of the 
Belgians against the Dutch king. 

At the end of the Napoleonic wars, the Belgian people had 
wanted to return to the rule of Austria, but by the Final Act of 
Vienna the two parts of the Low Countries were united under the 
House of Orange to form a bulwark against France. The Dutch 

10 G. Braudes, op. cit VI, 529. 


king, William I, had granted a Constitution less liberal than the 
French Charter— an instrument o£ government that definitely subor- 
dinated the States-General to the will of the monarch. William was 
an energetic and hard-working ruler, but through too close an at- 
tention to details he often lost sight of the main issues. He sincerely 
wished his people to be happy, but he expected them to follow him 
unquestioningly. “I can reign without ministers,” he announced, “it 
is I alone who govern and I alone am responsible.” The new Con- 
stitution was submitted to two assemblies, one in Holland and one 
in Belgium. The Belgian assembly refused to accept the document, 
whereupon William decided that he would count as favorable to 
the Constitution all those who had abstained from voting and all 
those who had voted “No” because of religious reasons. This was 
called by some of the outraged Belgians, “Dutch arithmetic.” 

In the lower chamber of the States-General the Dutch and Bel- 
gians had equal numbers of representatives, though Belgium had 
a population of nearly three and a half million as against the two 
millions of Holland. Most of the high positions in the adminis- 
tration were given to Dutchmen, no legislation was considered 
binding unless written in Dutch, and, after laws passed in 1819 
and 1822, all pleading in the courts had to be in Dutch. Estranged 
by such discrimination, the Belgians objected also to the fact that 
they had to assume a large proportion of the Dutch national debt. 
The mass of the population in each division of the kingdom cher- 
ished a hearty dislike of the other. The Dutch, proud of their two 
centuries of independence and of their Protestantism, regarded the 
Belgians, who had never freed themselves, as a race of inferiors 
ruled by priests and foreigners; the Belgians reciprocated with a 
growing hatred toward the Dutch. 

William I tried to stimulate the economic development of his 
kingdom. Like the enlightened despots of the eighteenth century, 
he devoted much attention to building roads and canals, to im- 
proving the harbors of Amsterdam, Ostend, and Antwerp (the 
Scheldt was now opened to navigation), to subsidizing and encour- 
aging industries, and to extending the system of public schools. 
Belgian manufactures, the only ones in Europe which kept pace 
with those of England, and Dutch shipping and banking expanded 



rapidly. Holland and the Dutch colonies furnished excellent mar- 
kets for Belgian manufactured products, while Dutch shipping pro- 
vided cheap and rapid means of procuring raw materials for Bel- 
gian factories and for distributing Belgian machines, cloth, and 
glassware. There was some disagreement on questions of tariff 
legislation. The Dutch, whose chief economic activities were agri- 
cultural and commercial, demanded low tariffs; the Belgians, a peo- 
ple with extensive manufactures, wanted high tariffs. But on the 
whole the union was successful economically, at least for the great 
capitalists. Among the small landowners and renters, and among 
the lower middle class and the rising industrial proletariat in the 
towns, the economic conditions were less satisfactory, and the tend- 
ency of the lower classes was to blame their poverty and distress 
on the Dutch regime. While the governing classes started the revo- 
lution, it was the dissatisfied proletarian masses who carried it 
through. 11 

The growing estrangement between the Dutch government and 
the upper classes in Belgium arose from the political arrangements 
made in 1815 and from a bitter quarrel between the Belgian church 
and the Dutch government. These two currents of opposition had 
in the beginning little in common. The Catholic opposition to the 
king, begun by Maurice de Broglie, the Bishop of Ghent, attacked 
the equality of religious sects provided for in the Constitution. 12 The 
political liberals, especially those who came of age in the iBao’s, 
wished to free the press and to gain more rights for the Belgians m 
the States-General. For a time the ardent clericalism of the Catholic 
clergy, the strongest and bitterest enemies of the Dutch regime, 
drove the liberals to support William in his quarrel with the Bel- 
gian hierarchy. But in 1825 the king prepared the way for a rap- 
prochement of the liberals and the Catholics by trying to force all 
candidates for the Catholic priesthood to take part of their training 
in the Philosophical Faculty established by him at the University 
of Louvain. He then tried to appease the anger of the Catholics by 
signing a concordat with the pope (1827), and by agreeing to 
withdraw the regulations for the training of priests. 

n C. Terlinden, “La politique economique de Guillaume I,” Revue historique , 19 22. 

13 Cf. J. Lenfant, “Broglie, Eveque de Gand,” Revue cfhistcnre de Veghsc de France . 


These concessions proved to be of no avail. In 1827 the liberals, 
under the leadership of an astute and resourceful journalist, Louis 
de Potter, approached the clerical leaders, who were turning toward 
the doctrines of Lamennais. They drew up a common program 
in which the Catholics agreed to the liberal demand for a free 
press and the liberals subscribed to the Catholic demand for the lib- 
erty of teaching. Both Insisted on the principle of ministerial re- 
sponsibility, on the right of the Chambers to propose legislation, on 
an annual parliamentary vote on the budget, trial by jury in all 
cases, and the remission of certain taxes on foodstuffs that fell more 
heavily on the Belgians than on the Dutch. Nobody seems to have 
thought of claiming independence; there was not even a demand for 
self-government. But between 1827 and 1830 dislike of the political 
regime grew rapidly in nearly all strata of the Belgian population. 
The Dutch king with the advice of his chief minister, van Maanen, 
obstinately refused to make any real concessions. The news of the 
July Revolution in France was received with great interest in Bel- 
gium, but was followed at the time by no revolutionary demon- 
strations. When William visited the Belgian provinces in August, 
1830, he found the people more prosperous than they had ever been 
and he concluded that the political unrest and agitation constituted 
no danger to the monarchy. On August 15, however, a committee of 
radicals, meeting in secret, decided that the time for a revolt was 
near, and sent some of their members to London and Paris to 
sound out the diplomats. 

The Dutch king had visited Brussels to attend an industrial exhi- 
bition. It was planned to close the festivities, some days after his 
departure, with a great pyrotechnic display and a general illumina- 
tion in honor of William’s fifty-ninth birthday (August 24). The 
unrest beneath the surface was, however, clearly shown in leaflets, 
broadcast at the time, which contained the extraordinary announce- 
ment, “The 23rd August, fireworks; the 24th August, celebration of 
the king’s birthday; the 25th August, revolution!” Because of the 
bad weather, neither of the first two events came off as scheduled, 
but the revolution did come as announced. For on the 25th, at a 
performance of Scribe and Auber’s opera, La Muette de Portict, 
which portrayed a Neapolitan rising against Spanish rule, part of 



the audience, led by some students, started an uproar and later went 
out into the streets singing and howling, “Down with the Dutch! 
Down with the ministry!” 

The rioters sacked and burned the residence of van Maanen and 
the offices of a newspaper subsidized by the Dutch government. At- 
tacks were made on the houses of the director of police and of the 
provincial governor. The military authorities, being unprepared, 
took no effective steps to stop the rioting. The next day the old 
revolutionary Brabangon flag was raised, and the royal arms torn 
from many buildings. To put a stop to the damage being done to 
property, the nobility, merchants, and municipal authorities, most 
of whom wanted only concessions from the king, established a 
provisional guard. On the 28th an assembly of notables from the 
same groups was held and a deputation of five, including Gendebien 
and the Comte de Merode, was sent to present a respectful address 
to the king, asking him to consider the grievances of the Belgians 
and to convoke at once the States-General. William answered this 
request by sending his son, the Prince of Orange, to Brussels. The 
prince was popular in Belgium and was at least civilly received, 
but after three days of conferences (September 1-3) no agreement 
was reached. The prince returned to Holland to confer with his 
father, but before leaving he ordered the royal troops to evacuate 
Brussels and confided the rule of the city to its citizens. The king 
now dismissed the hated van Maanen and called a meeting of the 
States-General for September 13. On September 29-30 the tw r o 
Chambers, assembled in special session at The Hague, declared 
that Holland and Belgium should have separate administrations. 
This was the last time that Dutch and Belgian deputies were to sit 
together in the same parliament. 

But it was too late for compromise. A group of four hundred 
patriots from Liege, led by Charles Rogier, as well as other bands 
of provincials had reached Brussels and were demanding a com- 
plete separation from Holland. A struggle ensued between those 
who wished to negotiate with the Dutch authorities and those who 
would accept nothing less than independence. The latter group 
got the upper hand, and when the king’s younger son arrived in 
Brussels with a body of Dutch troops, on September 23, a bloody 
fight ensued. For four days the Dutch soldiers tried to subdue the 


city, but, unable to get past the barricades in the lower town, where 
the working classes fought stubbornly, the Dutch withdrew on the 
26th. 13 These days decided the fate of Belgium. Conciliation was no 
longer possible. The Dutch made matters worse by bombarding 
Antwerp on October 27. By November 10 Belgian territory was 
practically freed from Dutch control, and a National Congress had 
been elected. The Congress voted to establish an independent mon- 
archy, and began to elaborate a Constitution which was not com- 
pleted until 1831. The most liberal in Europe, it proclaimed the 
doctrine of the sovereignty of the people, and provided the political 
machinery for its enforcement. The franchise was given to all those 
who paid a tax of forty-two francs, a much lower qualification than 
was provided for in the French Charter after 1830 or by the English 
Reform Bill of 1832. It wisely gave extensive rights of self-govern- 
ment to the various Belgian provinces and towns. Freedom of the 
press, of public meeting, of education, of religion were guaranteed. 
The Belgian Constitution, from the liberal standpoint, was regarded 
as an even greater victory than the setting up of Louis Philippe’s 

The next step was to get the agreement of the European powers. 
England and France were both favorable to the new state, though 
neither showed any desire to intervene in case of a war. The three 
eastern powers were all hostile. But Austria was occupied with dis- 
turbances in Italy, and Russia, although anxious to help the King 
of Holland subdue his rebel subjects, was entirely wrapped up In 
the Polish Revolution. A conference of the five powers — England, 
France, Austria, Russia, and Prussia — met in London, where nego- 
tiations fell largely into the hands of Palmerston, the British foreign 
secretary, and of Talleyrand, the French ambassador. Palmerston 
wished to keep the new state from becoming a satellite of France, 
and Talleyrand, anxious above all to maintain peace and to con- 
ciliate the English, finally consented to cooperate. By a protocol 
drawn up December 20, 1830, the powers agreed to recognize Bel- 
gian independence; in a further agreement made in January, 1831, 
they declared the new state “perpetually neutral.” The powers de- 
cided further to divide Luxemburg; part was assigned to Belgium 

18 Cl M, Boloprue, L f insurrection pr&Wtariemtc de 1830 cn Bclmqnc (Biussels, 1929)' 

2 7 6 reaction and revolution 

and the rest remained under the government of the House of 
Orange. 14 

It proved to be much more difficult to choose a king. The Belgian 
National Congress wanted the Due de Nemours, the second son of 
Louis Philippe, or, if that were impossible, the son of Eugene de 
Beauharnais. England would not agree to the first; the House of 
Orleans rejected the second. Palmerston proposed the Prince of 
Orange, and then Leopold of Saxe-Coburg. Louis Philippe with- 
drew the candidacy of his son, and the Congress finally elected 
Leopold, the widower of George IV’s only daughter, and the prince 
to whom the crown of Greece had been offered. 15 He refused the 
Belgian kingship until the frontiers were fixed by the National 
Congress. This was soon arranged, and on July 21, 1831, Leopold 
made a solemn entry into Brussels and took an oath to support and 
defend the Constitution. 16 The King of Holland refused to recog- 
nize these arrangements and in August, 1831, he sent an army into 
Belgium. Leopold appealed to France for help, whereupon French 
troops drove out the Dutch. William still refused his consent to the 
terms of the agreements made by the powers. Prussia, Austria, and 
Russia declined to use further pressure on him, but England and 
France decided to take joint action. The English fleet blockaded 
the Dutch ports while a French army was sent to take the citadel 
of Antwerp, which the Dutch had never relinquished. Not until 
1839, however, after eight years of negotiation and diplomatic 
bickering, did the Dutch king come to terms with the powers and 
recognize the independence and neutrality of the Belgian state. 


The revolutions in France and in Belgium were paralleled by out- 
breaks in Germany, in some of the Italian states, in Switzerland, in 

14 Cf. on the diplomatic aspects of the Belgian Revolution, W E. Lingelbach, “Belgian 
Neutrality,” American Historical Review , 1933, and F. de Lannoy, Histoire diplo- 
matique de Vmdependance beige (Brussels, 1930), 

15 This arrangement was well received by England, but was accepted only as a com- 
promise by Fiance. Later, to conciliate French opinion, Leopold married the daughter of 
Louis Philippe. 

10 Leopold proved to be a ruler of great capacity, though he was often much tried by 
the inexperience of the Belgian leaders and by their naive enthusiasm for the catch- 
words and symbols of liberalism. There is a story to the effect that lie sent out a seivant 
night after night to pour acid at the roots of a liberty-tree that had been planted in front 
of the royal palace; the tree died. 


Poland, in Spain, and in Portugal Only in Switzerland, in a few of 
the smaller German principalities, and in the Iberian states, how- 
ever, were the movements successful 

In the Confederation the Burschenschaften had again become 
active after 1825, especially in the universities of Erlangen, Jena, 
and Giessen. The liberals in the parliaments of the South German 
states spoke out with greater freedom, while the writings of men 
like Welcker and Rottcck also helped to spread liberal ideas at the 
end of the 1820’s. But as yet there was no general movement which 
affected the political outlook of all German states. When the news 
of the revolution in Paris reached Germany, great excitement seized 
the younger generation. “I was reading Warnefried’s History of the 
Lombards ” wrote Heine, “when the thick packet of newspapers 
with the warm, glowing-hot news arrived. Each item was a sun- 
beam, wrapped in printed paper, and together they kindled my 
soul into a wild glow. . . . Lafayette, the tricolor, the Marseillaise, 
—it intoxicates me. Bold, ardent hopes spring up, like trees with 
golden fruit and branches that shoot up wildly, till their leaves touch 
the clouds.” 17 Isolated disturbances broke out.\The debauched Duke 
of Brunswick was driven from his throne and his successor obliged 
to grant a constitution; the rulers of Hesse-Cassel, Hanover, and 
Saxony were constrained to make similar concessions. (The Han- 
over Constitution was t largely the work of the famous Gottingen 
historian, Dahlmann.^ New elections in Bavaria, Wiirttemberg, and 
Baden brought additional liberals into the Chambers) in all three 
states the press spoke out with courage. The result of these changes 
was that the radical journalists of several states organized a great 
liberal and national festival which met at Hambach in Rhenish 
Bavaria, May 17, 1832. Twenty-five thousand people from all over 
Germany, together with a number of refugees from the Polish 
Revolution, attended the celebration and acclaimed the impassioned 
speakers who denounced the principles of the Holy Alliance. 18 

The course of events from 1830 to 1832 thoroughly frightened the 
German rulers. Bavaria Inflicted severe penalties on the orators of 
Hambach, and Austria and Prussia took the lead in influencing 

17 Heine, Sdmmtliche Werke (Hamburg, 1867), XIX, 83, 87. 

18 Cf. V. Valentin* Das Hambachcr Natwnalfest (Berlin, 193a). 



the Diet at Frankfort to pass the Six Acts of June, 1832. This 
repressive legislation assured to the rulers of such states as had 
parliaments the right to override their assemblies and denied the 
right of any assembly to refuse to the prince the income requisite 
for carrying on the government or to pass legislation prejudicial to 
the objects of the Confederation as interpreted by the statesmen of 
Austria and Prussia. The Diet annulled the press laws of Baden 
and forced the government at Karlsruhe to dismiss Rotteck and 
Welcker from their teaching positions. This repressive legislation 
so exasperated a group of students from Heidelberg and Gottingen 
that, with the aid of some Polish refugees, they tried a putsch in 
April, 1833. Planning to overawe the Diet, they seized the guard- 
house at Frankfort and attempted in vain to hold it. Not long 
afterward the Diet reestablished the Mainz Commission to ferret 
out all liberal agitators; in 1835 it condemned the doctrines of the 
Young German movement for “attacking the Christian religion 
and the social order.” 19 The spirit of revolution had again been 
conquered in Germany. But, being prosperous and contented, the 
mass of the German people looked on with indifference while the 
governments drove a handful of journalists and intellectuals into 
prison or exile. 

The Hapsburg government and the reactionary rulers were even 
more completely successful in quelling the revolutionary flurries in 
Italy. In spite of the severe repression that followed the failure 
of the Revolutions of 1820, the Italian secret societies continued 
their activities. They had, in fact, entered into relations with the 
liberal organizations in France and Belgium. A group of Italians 
in Paris, known as U emancipazione italiana , was in close touch 
with Lafayette and numbered Buonarroti among its members. It 
served as a clearing house for the various Italian revolutionary so- 
cieties. Aided by this group, General Pepe went to Marseilles where, 
with a thousand volunteers, he made ready to embark for Sicily. 
Some of the leaders who remained in Italy were negotiating with 
Francis IV of Modena, who, with large ambitions for the crown 
of Italy, seems to have so laid his plans that he would stand well if 

10 Cf. G. Ras, Borne und Heine als pohtische S chriftsteller (Gioningen, r c> — 6 ’i and 
the excellent discussion in chap, n of H Lichteuberger, Henri Home, pcusntr (Pans, 


either the conspirators or the Austrians got the upper hand. But 
when a revolt broke out in his capital in December, 1830, Francis, 
having decided that Louis Philippe would do nothing to help the 
Italian revolutionaries, turned on the rebels and arrested their leader, 
Menotti. The rebels, however, drove the duke to take refuge in 
Mantua. Within a few weeks Marie Louise of Parma was forced 
to flee, and in the Papal States east of the Apennines the revolu- 
tionaries set up a provisional government. In the Italian Revolutions 
of 1830-31 the various groups of insurgents cooperated as they had 
not done in 1820-21, and these revolutions might have succeeded had 
Austria not intervened. 

All the revolts had been undertaken with the hope that the new 
government in France would be sympathetic and would even send 
aid. The French ministry had already, in the case of Belgium, pro- 
posed as the basis of its foreign policy the Doctrine of Non-Inter- 
vention, a formula earlier elaborated by Castlereagh and Canning. 
Laffitte, the head of the French cabinet, and men prominent in the 
new regime, like Lafayette and Sebastian!, even encouraged the 
Italians, as they were encouraging the Poles, to expect French aid. 
Metternich, however, was not inactive. With the backing of Russia 
and Prussia he reaffirmed the principles of the Holy Alliance and 
began to use pressure on the government of Louis Philippe. He 
attempted to evoke the specter of Bonapartism by recalling the 
fact that Austria might at any time release the Duke of Reichstadt, 
that the son of Eugene de Bcauharnais was being proposed for the 
Belgian crown, that Achilla Murat was expected to make an at- 
tempt to seize the throne of Naples, and that two of the sons of 
Louis Napoleon and Hortense were taking part in the revolution 
in the Papal States. At the same time the French Chamber of 
Deputies made it dear that France would not undertake a war. 

The French government now began to beat a diplomatic retreat 
Casimir Perier, who had succeeded Laffitte as head of the ministry, 
announced that the Principle of Non-Intervention could not be 
carried too far, and that “the blood of Frenchmen belongs only 
to France.” Austria thereupon proceeded to send her troops into 
Italy and to restore the legitimate rulers in Parma, Modena, the 
Romagna, Umbria, and the Marches. To save the face of the 

28 o 


French government Casimir Perier, in a memorandum to the newly 
elected pope, Gregory XVI, demanded reforms m the administra- 
tion of the Papal States. No real reforms were instituted, the Ro- 
magna again broke out in revolt, and Austrian troops entered the 
Papal States for a second time. Thereupon the French ministry sent 
an “army of observation 5 ’ to Ancona, where it remained until 1838. 
The restored rulers in Parma, Modena, and Rome turned on their 
defeated subjects; again the prisons were filled with revolutionaries 
and the executioners were busy. In the Papal States, Cardinal Ber- 
netti instituted veritable massacres. 20 

As part of the papal reaction Gregory XVI promulgated an en- 
cyclical condemning the doctrines of the French Liberal Catholics 
as set forth in their journal, L Avenir. Lamennais and his followers 
had welcomed the Revolution of 1830 as the beginning of the libera- 
tion of the church from its domination by the state. They hailed the 
revolutions in Belgium, in Poland, and in Italy, and called on the 
pope to place the Catholic Church in alliance with the rising forces 
of democracy. But the hostility of the French hierarchy and of the 
Roman curia forced the suspension of UAveiiir, and in 1832 La- 
mennais, Lacordaire, and Montalembert went to Rome to lay 
their case before Gregory XVI. The pope received them with kind- 
ness, but after weeks of waiting, during which they could get no 
reply to their demands, they started back home. Lamennais was in 
Munich when he received the crushing rebuke of the encyclical, 
Mirari Vos . This famous pronouncement condemned and de- 
nounced liberty of conscience and of religious worship, and the 
ideas of the freedom of the press and of the separation of church 
and state, and all the “other harmful errors of those who, possessed 
by an undue love for liberty, do their utmost to undermine au- 
thority.” Far from submitting to the papal condemnation of his 
doctrines, Lamennais replied in 1834 with his Paroles d’un croyant , 
an exultant but vague glorification of the ideals of democracy and 

When the liberals in Italy seemed utterly crushed, a new leader 
suddenly appeared, the greatest the movement had thus far pro- 

20 Cf. C Vidal, Louis Philippe , Metternich > et la arise italienne de 1831-1832 (Paris, 
193 0 


duced. Mazzini, son o£ a professor in the University of Genoa, had 
dedicated himself early to the cause of Italian unity and freedom. 
In 1830 he was imprisoned for his activities as a Carbonaro; when 
he was released, he took up his residence in Marseilles, where in 
1831 he founded a new society, Young Italy. Its purpose was to 
arouse the whole Italian people to a united desire to regenerate and 
free their country. Mazzini’s great power lay in the boldness of his 
conception, and in his extraordinary ability to convince men of 
the grandeur of his ideal and to fire them with his own burning 
faith. Nationalism all over Europe was assuming the form of a new 
religion; Mazzini soon became its most exalted prophet. His gospel 
held that the whole populace must be aroused by a great proselytiz- 
ing movement. This would finally enable the Italians to drive out the 
Austrians and to set up a united republic with Rome as its capital. 21 

Beyond this goal, Mazzini envisaged Italy as the chosen country 
of Europe. As the French Revolution had freed the individual, so a 
great Italian revolution would inaugurate a new era of free nations. 
By the end of 1834 he had earned his plans far enough to organize, 
with sixteen other unknown Italians, Germans, and Poles, a move- 
ment known as Young Europe, which was to organize national 
committees to head a Young Germany, a Young Poland, and a 
Young Switzerland, all in addition to his own favorite project, 
Young Italy. 22 Mazzini in these years was just at the beginning of 
his extraordinary career; but by 1833 Young Italy had enlisted 
60,000 members. The general movement was directed by Mazzini 
and a group of Italians in Marseilles, while the central committee 
for Italy was located at Genoa. Provincial committees were set up 
in all the important cities of the peninsula, and in a few years there 
were agents active even in the smaller towns. The members of 
Young Italy were all under forty years of age, men without wealth ’ 
or social position, but each one a missionary consecrated to the 
cause. A fire had been lighted that was not to die out of the heart 
of this generation until their country was free. 

In Switzerland the revolutionary disturbances were local and * 
had no immediate effect on the federal government. Under the 

a C£. A. Corltgnola, La fiiavinezza dt Mazzini (Florence, 1926). 

22 Cf. D. Melegari, La jcunc Italic ct la jeune Europe (Paris, 1908). 



Federal Pact of 1815 the central government, which rotated in two- 
year cycles among the cantonal governments of Zurich, Bern, and 
Lucerne, had little real power. There was a Diet made up of dele- 
gates from all the cantons, each of which, regardless of population, 
had one vote. The cantons, as sovereign bodies, could levy customs 
duties on one another, were allowed to make alliances with each 
other, and could conduct diplomatic relations with foreign powers 
so long as their action was not detrimental to the whole Confedera- 
tion. Inside the twenty-two cantons the governments were in the 
hands of the local aristocracies, which guarded their privileges 
jealously. From 1815 to 1825 these cantonal administrations were, for 
the most part, reactionary, though they met with little resistance 
from either the peasants or the bourgeoisie. 

After 1825, however, the Philhellenic movement, the activity of 
groups of students and journalists, and the development of industry 
started liberal movements which threatened the existing order and 
in a number of cantons forced the granting of new constitutions. 
In the July Revolution in Paris, many Swiss soldiers were killed 
fighting for the French king; shortly afterward Louis Philippe dis- 
missed the six Swiss regiments in the French army and the men 
returned to Switzerland. These events of 1830 created a profound 
impression among the Swiss people and emboldened the liberal 
groups to agitate for further reforms. In many of the cantons pub- 
lic meetings were held, petitions were drawn up, and where the local 
governments would not yield, riots took place. Between 1830 and 
1833 most of the remaining cantons secured new constitutions 
recognizing the sovereignty of the people, equality before the law,^ 
and liberty of the press. The federal government refused to take any 
part in these cantonal quarrels, and not until 1848 were any funda- 
mental changes made in the Swiss national regime. The liberals, 
however, regarded the local democratic reforms of 1830 to 1833 as 
the first steps toward a national regeneration. 

The most bloody struggle caused by the upheaval of 1830 was a 
revolution which broke out in Poland at the end of the year. 23 The 
growing tension between the Poles and Nicholas I after 1825 had 

23 Cf A Lewak, “The Polish Rising of 1830,” Slavonic Review , 1930, a good intro- 


led to the formation in 1828 of a new secret society, most of whose 
members were in the officers 5 school at Warsaw. In 1829, at the 
time of his coronation as King of Poland, Nicholas was very coldly 
received, and in the Diet of 1830 his wishes were flouted and his 
policies severely criticized. When several members of the Polish 
secret society, detected because of their relations with Russian con- 
spirators, were given light sentences by the Diet acting as a court, 
Nicholas was furious and remarked, “They have saved the crim- 
inals, but they have lost the country!” 

The secret society was plotting a rebellion when the rumor was 
spread about that the tsar was going to lead a Russian and Polish 
army to France and to Belgium.- to crush the revolutions there. So 
on November 29, 1830, the leaders of the secret society started a re- 
volt with the help of some university students. This handful of rebels, 
without an able leader and without any definite plans, could easily 
have been put down. But Constantine, the tsar’s brother and the head 
of the Polish army, after some futile negotiations, left the country. 
A provisional government was set up, and the revolt soon spread 
over the whole Congress Kingdom. The leaders of the provisional 
government were landed aristocrats, chief of whom were Prince 
Czartoryski and General Chlopicki, who had served under Napo- 
leon, and who was allowed to declare himself dictator. Men of this 
stamp, afraid of a revolt of the masses, tried to negotiate for reform 
with the Russian tsar, but Nicholas would accept no terms save 
those of absolute submission. Meanwhile this policy of attempted 
conciliation led to a split among the Polish forces, for opposed to 
the Whites, who had the upper hand at the beginning of the revo- 
lution, was an ardent group of Reds, led by political radicals, among 
whom was the historian Lelewel. 

The divisions among the Poles themselves paralyzed their efforts. 
They failed to use their well-organized military forces in a rapid 
drive against the Russian army, which was exhausted and dis- 
organized after the war with Turkey. The Polish Diet voted the 
deposition of Nicholas I as King of Poland and in February, 1831, 
a Russian army entered the kingdom. The Polish forces won a few 
victories, but were badly defeated at Ostrolenka. The Russians then 
pushed into the heart of the country. The enemy’s advance pre- 



cipitated disturbances in Warsaw, in which the Reds finally got 
the upper hand over the Whites. The military and civil leaders were 
now changed even more frequently than they had been before. 
The forces of both sides were decimated by cholera, which now 
made its first appearance in Europe; among its victims were Con- 
stantine and the Russian general, Diebitsch. The mass of the peasants 
remained apathetic. The Diet, composed largely of nobles, passed 
a few reforms which, in some degree, lightened the burdens of the 
agricultural classes, but undertook nothing which aroused their in- 
terest or enthusiasm in the cause of Polish freedom. 

The leaders of the revolution counted rather heavily on the in- 
tervention of the western powers to save them. But their hope for 
help from England and from France — they firmly believed until 
almost the end that the government of Louis Philippe would save 
their cause — failed. Austria and Prussia closed their frontiers and 
stopped the Poles under their rule from sending aid to the revolu- 
tionaries. Even the pope denounced the Poles as rebels and ordered 
them as good Catholics to submit to the tsar, the legitimate King of 
Poland. On September 8, 1831, Warsaw fell. Within a few weeks 
the revolution was over. The tsar took a terrible revenge. He re- 
nounced all the arrangements made in 1815, and in 1832 promulgated 
an Organic Statute for the government of the former Congress 
Kingdom. This affirmed the inviolability of persons and of private 
property, allowed the official use of Polish, and guaranteed a sepa- 
rate administration. But the document was designed, as it appeared 
later, to deceive foreign opinion. In actual practice the Poles under 
Russian rule — especially after a futile rising in 1833 — were governed 
by the most ruthless military methods. An ordinance of 1833 de- 
clared the country in a “state of war,” a regulation that technically 
remained in effect until the World War. A tenth of the Polish lands 
were seized and given to Russians, the Universities of Warsaw and 
Vilna were closed, and thousands were put to death, Imprisoned, 
or banished. 24 Warsaw, the greater center of Polish cultural life, was 
transformed into a stronghold of military oppression and police con- 

34 In one of bis works Krasinski, the Polish poet, describes Poland after 1831 as “the 
land of graves and crosses. Thou mayest know it by the silence of its men and the 
melancholy of its children.” E. H. Lewmsky-Corwin, History of Poland (New York, 
1917) > 446 . 


trol. The Poles who lived in Lithuania and in White Russia were 
treated even worse than were the inhabitants of the former Congress 
Kingdom. Practically the whole intellectual elite emigrated; indeed, 
the Polish emigration was the most extensive in modern history. 
Poles went to all the countries of Europe and to America, but the 
largest number settled in Paris, where they exerted a strong influence 
on the intellectual life of modern France. 

The difficulties in Portugal and Spain were the outgrowth of the 
Revolutions of 1820, though the settlements finally arrived at were 
the result of the revolutionary movements of 1830. Canning had in- 
tervened in 1826 to protect the constitutional regime in Portugal 
when it was threatened by an intervention from Spain. The regent 
and the young Portuguese queen, Maria, continued to meet with 
opposition from the queen’s uncle, Dom Miguel, and the Portuguese 
Ultras. In 1827 Dom Miguel was allowed to reenter the country; 
in 1828 he seized the throne. Most of the European states broke off 
diplomatic relations with Portugal, but the Duke of Wellington and 
the British Ministry refused to intervene. Dom Miguel instituted a 
white terror and drove all liberal resistance underground. Ulti- 
mately the maltreatment of some English and French subjects in 
Portugal and the insulting language addressed by Dom Miguel to 
Louis Philippe led the English and French governments to send a 
French squadron to Portugal in 1831. Dom Miguel apologized, and 
neither the English nor the French ministry tried to push the mat- 
ter further. 

Pedro, the Emperor of Brazil, who had just been forced to re- 
nounce his crown there, now appeared on the scene to defend the 
rights of his daughter Maria, the legitimate ruler. A civil war en- 
sued which involved Portugese affairs with those of Spain. Fer- 
dinand VII, the Spanish king, was trying to arrange matters to 
have his infant daughter Isabella succeed him. He therefore set 
aside a Spanish law of 1713 according to which his brother Carlos, 
leader of the Spanish reactionaries, the apostolicos , would come to 
the throne. When Ferdinand died in 1833, his daughter was pro- 
claimed Queen of Spain. The queen regent recalled Martinez de la 
Rosa, who drew up a new constitution modeled on the French 
Charter. Thereupon the two pretenders, Dom Miguel of Portugal ' 


and Don Carlos of Spain, joined forces against their rulers, King 
Pedro and Queen Isabella. France and England then intervened 
once more and Dom Miguel and Don Carlos went into exile, 
though the civil war in Spain dragged on until 1840. Spain and 
Portugal were, however, lined up with England, France, and Bel- 
gium as constitutional monarchies. 


England passed through the crisis of 1830 without a revolution, 
although the governing classes were driven to make substantial 
changes in the parliamentary regime. The Whigs had tried to carry 
through a reform of the electoral system in the later eighteenth cen- 
tury, but after the rejection of such a project proposed by Pitt in 
1785, the matter ceased to be considered seriously. During the long 
wars with France, to speak ill of the abuses of the electoral system 
was to “utter seditious words against the matchless constitution,” and 
no reform was possible. After 1815 a series of electoral scandals 
revealed the corruption of the whole system, which had been left 
unchanged since the latter part of the seventeenth century and which 
enabled a comparatively few" noblemen to control Parliament. The 
rapid growth of new urban centers also revealed the absurdity of 
an electoral regime which allowed small towns or even agricultural 
villages — the rotten and pocket boroughs — to send representatives 
to Parliament while great industrial centers like Manchester, Leeds, 
Sheffield, and Birmingham were unrepresented. 25 The Whigs, after 
obtaining tariff changes and Catholic Emancipation, now turned to 
a program of electoral reform. Their principal demand was for a 
redistricting of the seats in the House of Commons, while the radi- 
cals were calling for a wider extension of the suffrage. Now, at 
the end of the 1820s, the two groups joined forces to make a com- 
mon front against the Tories. 

The death of George IV in June, 1830, and the accession of his 
brother as William IV necessitated the calling of a parliamentary 

“The abuses of the British electoral system are too well known to require treatment 
here; a good, brief account is that m E Halevy, A History of the English People tn 1815 
(New York, 1924), 1 02-1 30 Recent studies have modified the older views, cf. L. B. 
Namier, The Structure of Politics at the Accession of George III ( 2 vols , London, 
1929), and D. Barnes, “The Myth of an Eighteenth Century Whig Oligarchy,” in Pro- 
ceedings, Pacific Coast Branch, Ameucan Historical Association (1929). 


election. 26 A lively campaign ensued in which the Whigs spoke out 
vigorously for parliamentary reform. The Tories won the election, 
but their majority was greatly reduced. Shortly afterward the news 
of the overthrow of Charles X and the establishment of a new 
government in France greatly encouraged the liberal forces in Eng- 
land to continue the fight. At the same time the July Revolution 
strengthened the liberal cause by disproving the old Tory conten- 
tion that all attempts to meet popular demands would produce 
anarchy. The leaders of political societies, and popular journalists 
like Cobbett, aroused the country to a high pitch of excitement. 
In October, 1830, Earl Grey introduced a Reform Bill into Par- 

Wellington, the head of the ministry, denounced the idea of re- 
form and went so far as to say he was fully convinced that the coun- 
try possessed at the present moment a legislature which “answers all 
the good purposes of legislation, and this to a greater degree than 
any legislature ever has answered any country whatever.” 27 At the 
very time when the defenders of the old system could say nothing 
for it but that it worked better in practice than in appearance, Wel- 
lington suddenly lavished on it praises which even Blackstone never 
surpassed. The effect of the speech was exactly the reverse of what 
was intended; many who were wavering joined the opposition, and 
a few weeks later Wellington was forced to resign. Lord Grey then 
formed a new ministry of Whigs and Canningite Tories. When they 
presented the bill to the House of Commons, it passed the second 
reading by a majority of only one. The details of the bill were then 
amended in committee, whereupon Grey decided to dissolve Par- 
liament and to call new elections. These were held in an atmosphere 
of intense excitement. When the ballots were counted, it was found 
that the Whigs had a majority in the lower house for the first 
time in fifty years. The Commons promptly passed the revised 
bill, but the Lords rejected it by a majority of forty-one. The minis- 
try then advised the king to dissolve parliament once more. 

Meetings and processions were held, riots broke out all over the 
country, the political societies recommended that all Englishmen 

20 Cf. G. E. Thompson, The Patriot Kmg, William IV (New York, 1933). 

27 D. C. Somervell, English Thought in the Nineteenth Century (London, 1929), 7. 


Interested in reform refuse to pay taxes, and some of the radical 
leaders, with the slogan, “Go for gold/’ threatened a run on the 
Bank of England. Of the thirty archbishops and bishops who sat 
with the Lords, only two voted in favor of the bill, seven abstained 
from balloting, and twenty-one voted against it. Feeling was, there- 
fore, especially bitter against the upper clergy. Some were burned 
in effigy, others were stoned, and in Bristol the mob set fire to the 
bishop’s palace. The ministry itself was in deep distress, for it was 
fighting simultaneously on two fronts; it was blocked by the Tory 
Lords and was at the same time bitterly attacked by some of the 
radicals. Many thought England on the verge of a civil war. 

The House of Lords finally agreed to pass the bill, but with an 
amendment that would greatly weaken it. The Grey ministry would 
not consent to such a compromise and proposed that the king create 
enough new Lords to carry the bill. William refused, the cabinet 
resigned, and the king next called on Wellington to form a new 
government. Wellington failed. William was then obliged to 
recall the Grey ministry and grant it permission to create new peers. 
Thereupon the House of Lords, to avoid this disaster, passed the 
bill in June, 1832, As finally adopted, the Reform Bill redistributed 
a hundred forty-three of the seats in the House of Commons, grant- 
ing representation to the large urban centers of the north and west 
of England. No attempt was made to create equal electoral districts, 
but only to remove flagrant abuses; constituencies still varied greatly 
in population. The right to vote was given, in the towns, to all 
owners of property of a rental value of ten pounds a year, and in 
the country to all owners of property yielding an income of ten 
pounds; higher qualifications were demanded in both town and 
country for renters. 

The electorate was now increased by half. One out of thirty 
inhabitants could vote; in France, according to the Electoral Law of 
1831, only one out of two hundred inhabitants had the ballot. Al- 
though the Reform Bill did nothing for the workers it was a great 
victory for the middle class in Britain, and was the most decisive 
blow that the old order had received. It was not only that the Whigs 
had introduced a change, but that they had introduced the whole 


principle of change and had applied it to a part of the British Con- 
stitution long held sacred. “Whatever some of the Whigs might say 
about the ‘finality’ of their Bill,” says Trevelyan, “the principle it in* 
volved, when once admitted, could brook no limitation until com- 
plete democracy had been realized. On the other hand the belief of 
the Old Tories that the Reform Bill would lead at once to the over- 
throw of Crown and Lords, Church and property was the exact 
reverse of the truth. It was due to the Bill that England escaped the 
vicious circle of continental revolution and reaction.” 28 


The Revolutions of 1830 split Europe into two camps. The re- 
actionary eastern powers-— Russia, Austria, and Prussia— drew closer 
together. In western Europe England and France, both of which 
now had middle-class governments, joined forces to save the revo- 
lutionary cause in Belgium, Spain, and Portugal. Eastern despotism 
was arrayed against western parliamentarianism. 

By a series of diplomatic moves in 1831 and 1832 the eastern 
powers succeeded in keeping the revolution from spreading beyond 
France and Belgium. Their threats against Louis Philippe, whom 
they mockingly named “the King of the Barricades,” prevented 
French interference from saving the liberal cause in Italy and Poland. 
But Nicholas I was not satisfied merely with crushing the Polish 
Revolution; neither was Metternich willing to stop after he had 
pacified Germany and Italy. In 1833 the three eastern powers drew 
up definite arrangements regarding the future treatment of the 
Poles, the status of Luxemburg, and the measures of repression to 
be used in the German Confederation. Beyond this, a formal treaty 
of alliance, the Convention of Miinchengratz, was signed. 

This agreement recognized the right of any sovereign, threatened 
by revolt, to call to his aid the governments of Russia, Austria, and 
Prussia. “So long as the union of the three monarchs lasts,” wrote 
Metternich triumphantly, “there will be a chance of safety in the 
world!” When the Convention was presented to Palmerston, he 
pushed it aside with a contemptuous remark, and the Due de 

38 G. M. Trevelyan, British History in the Nineteenth Century (London, 19 22) t 235. 


Rumania, In England the Reform Bill gave the middle class a much 
larger influence in Parliament than it had ever had before; indeed, 
although it involved little violence, the bill effected as true a revo- 
lution as did the overthrow of Charles X in France. Despite its far- 
reaching results, however, the British regime was far from being 
democratized; the diplomatic service and the higher positions in 
the church and in the state administration remained in the hands 
of the aristocracy. 29 

Those who had directed the changes in France and England 
were immensely pleased and satisfied with their victory. For a 
generation the middle class had held that the French Revolution of 
1789 had erred — that in its policies and acts it had far overshot the 
mark. Now liberty was advancing with less passionate excitement 
but with an increased sense of reality. At last the old and the new 
seemed reconciled, and the leaders of the bourgeoisie believed that 
“monarchy by the grace of God and the will of the people” would 
endure forever. 

The victors of 1830 were, however, far less aware of the real 
significance of their achievement than were their opponents in both 
the reactionary and the radical camps. Metternich’s remark that 
“the mob is now rising against the bourgeoisie,” though it simply 
restates the conventional conservative fear of all change, shows that 
he recognized that the French Charter of 1830 and the other 
changes of the time were not the final achievements which their 
framers imagined them to be. At the same time, the working classes 
and the radicals in England and in France, who had themselves 
agitated for reform along with the leaders of the middle class, were 
not slow in realizing that they had been duped. Thus republican 
and socialist critics were soon attacking the reign of the upper 
bourgeoisie as the latter had attacked the rule of the throne and the 
altar. In all countries of western Europe journalists and literary men 
began to take up the newer creeds. Romanticism was already di- 
vorced from reaction, and poets, dramatists, and novelists of Young 
Europe filled their works with the ideals of nationalism, political 

20 Cf. B. Mirkine-Guet/evitch, “1830 dans revolution constitutionelle de PEurope," 
in 1830 £ tudcs sur les mouvements Uberaux et nationaux de 1830 (Paris, 1 932), an 
admirable study, and M Deslandres, Histcnre constitutionelle de la France 1789-1870 (a 
vols., Paris, 1933), esp. II, 8° partie. 


democracy, and economic justice. 30 “We alone have really under- 
stood what happened in 1830,” declared the Globe, now edited by 
the leaders of the Saint-Simonian School. “The so-called revolution 
has resulted only in the shifting of power from one class that used 
the people for its own selfish ends to another. 

30 rf F Baldensperger, “Le grand sch.sme de tS 3 o; romantisme rt jemie Europe,” 
Recede' c^p.rec, r 93 o, and H. Tronchon, “Une dames, .830,- 

Revue des coitrs ct conferences, 1926 

Bibliographical Notes 



Among the general books, the best is that of G. Weill, Ueveil des 
nationalites et le mouvement liberal 1815-48 (Paris, 1930), in the 
Halphen et Sagnac series, Peuples et civilisations . The bibliographies 
cover every aspect of the history of civilization in the period. Also of 
great value is A. Stern, Geschichte Europas seit den Vertrdgen von 1815 
bis zum Frankfurter Frieden von 1871, new ed., 10 vols. (Stuttgart, 1913- 
1928); W. Goetz, Ed., Die franzdsische Revolution, Napoleon , und die 
Restauration 1789-1848 (Berlin, 1929), in the series, Propyl den- Welt- 
geschichte, with remarkable illustrations, and the relevant articles in the 
Encyclopaedia of Social Sciences (New York, 1930 ff.). Cf. also F, B. 
Artz, “European Civilization 1815-50, Some Unfinished Business,” 
Journal of Modern History, 1937. 

The most useful general histories of the principal countries and 
peoples — those published since 1920 have extensive bibliographies — are: 
S. Walpole, History of England from the Conclusion of the Great War 
in 1815, rev. ed., 6 vols. (London, 1902-1905), chiefly political, an ex- 
cellent narrative; E. Halevy, History of the English People 1815-41, 3 
vols. (New York, 1924-1928), a more recent account; G. M. Young, 
Editor, Early Victorian England, 2 vols. (Oxford, 1934), very valuable; 
E. L. Woodward, The Age of Reform, 1815-1870 (Oxford, 1938), the 
emphasis is on the relation of economic and political development; P. L. 
Duvergier de Hauranne, Histoire du gouvernement parlementaire en 
France, 10 vols. (Paris, 1857-1871), the work of a Doctrinaire , not a 
scholarly treatment but ably written and in part based on contemporary 
material that has disappeared; S. Charlety, La Restauration (Paris, 1921), 
in the Lavisse series, Histoire de la France contemporaine, mainly 
political; and F. B. Artz, France under the Bourbon Restoration (Cam- 
bridge, 1931), with emphasis chiefly on social and intellectual develop- 
ment. Cf. also A. Tilley, ed., Modern France , A Companion to French 
Studies (Cambridge, 1922). H. von Treitschke, Deutsche Geschichte im 
neunzehnten Jahrhundert , new ed., 5 vols. (Leipzig, 1919-1923), English 
translation, 7 vols. (New York, 1915-1919), a brilliant work but marred 
by unfairness to Austria and to Metternich; F. Schnabel, Deutsche Ge- 
schichte im neunzehnten Jahrhundert, 4 vols. (Freiburg, 1929-1937, new 
ed. Vol. I, 1947), excellent work on the scale of Treitschke; A. W. 
Ward, Germany 1815-90, Vol. I (Cambridge, 1916), the best account 



in English crammed with facts but poorly proportioned, C. R. Smith, 
Germany 1815-1890 (London, 1940), R. D. Butler, The Roots of Na- 
tional Socialism (New York, 1942) J. G. Legge, Rhyme and Revolution 
in Germany (London, 1918), a clever popularization; J. Redlich, Das 
Osterreichische Staats- und Reichs-problem, 2 vols. (Leipzig, 1920-1926); 
F. Meinecke, Wcltburgertum und Nationalstaat, 7th ed. (Munich, 1928), 
the last two especially valuable for their interpretative comment, though 
Redlich is brief for this period; for Germany in general c£. J. Ritheil, 
Germany , A Companion to German Studies (London, 1932), and for 
the Hapsburg Monarchy in general, cf. L. Eisenmann, Le Compromis 
Austro-Hongrois de iS6y (Paris, 1904), O. Jaszi, The Dissolution of the 
Hapsburg Monarchy (Chicago, 1929), and A. J. P. Taylor, The Haps- 
burg Monarchy 1815-1918 * (London, 1949); for Hungary, cf. A. 
Apponyi, A Brief Sketch of the Hungarian Constitution (Budapest, 
1908), I. Lukinich, A History of Hungary in Biographical Sketches 
(Budapest, 1937), F. Eckhart, Introduction a VHistoire Hongroise (Paris, 
1928), O. Zarek, History of Hungary (London, 1937) and D. C. Kosary, 
History of Hungary (New York, 1941); for the Czech and Slovaks, cf. 
E. Denis, La Bo heme depuis la Montague Blanche, 2 vols.* (Paris, 1936), 
R. J. Kerner, ed., Czechoslovakia (Berkeley, 1940), S. H. Thomson, 
Czechoslovakia in European History (Princeton, 1943), and R. W. Seton- 
Watson, A History of the Czechs and Slovaks (London, 1943). H. 
Baumgarten, Gcschichte Spanicns, 3 vols. (Leipzig, 1865-1871), covers 
the political history of Spain from 1788 to 1839, an old-fashioned political 
history but still useful; H. B. Clarke, Modern Spain 1S15-9S (Cambridge, 
1906), the best English account; A. Ballesteros, Histoiia de Espaha , Vol. 
VII (Barcelona, 1934), the first thorough and scholarly work on the 
history of Spain after 1814. Cf. also E. Aunos, L’Espagnc contemporaine 
1810-1959 (Paris, 1939) and E. A. Peers, ed., Spain, A Companion to 
Spanish Studies (London, 1929). The two well-known works in English 
on Italian history after 1815: W. R. Thayer, Dawn of Italian Independ- 
ence, 2 vols. (Boston, 1892), and Bolton King, History of Italian Unity , 
2nd ed., 2 vols. (London, 1912), are out of date but still of value; good 
introductions, though very condensed, are A. Solmi, The Making of 
Modern Italy (London, 1925), G. Bourgin, La formation de V unite ital- 
ienne * (Paris, 1948), but the outstanding general work on Italy is M. 
Rosi, Italia odierna, 2 vols. (Turin-Rome, 1922-1927). Cf. also L. Salva- 
torelli, Concise History of Italy (London, 1940), D. Pettoello, Outline of 
Italian Civilization (London, 1932), E. G. Gardner, ed., Italy, A Com- 
panion to Italian Studies (London, 1934), and A. J. Whyte, Evolution 

* The works by Taylor, Denis and Bourgin are in revised editions 



of Modern Italy 77/5-/920 (Oxford, 1944). For Russia, M. Karpovich, 
Imperial Russia 1801-1917 (New York, 1932), B. Pares, History of 
Russia (new ed,, New York, 1946), D. Mirsky, Russia, a Social History 
(new ed., London, 1943), A Kornilov, Modern Russian History (new 
ed,, New York, 1943), G. Vernadsky, History of Russia (new ed., New 
Haven, 1944), P. Miliukov, Outlines of Russian Culture (3 vols., Phila- 
delphia, 1942), P. Miliukov and others, Histoire de Russia (3 vols., 
Paris, 1932), A. Howard and E. Newman, eds., Pictorial History of 
Russia (London, 1943), M, M. Kovalesky, Russian Political Institutions 
(Chicago, 1902), J. R Nccker, Russian Sociology (New York, 1935), 
and V. O. Kluchevsky, History of Russia , Vol. V (London, 1931), the 
concluding volume of the best extended history of Russia in English; 
T. Schiemann, Geschichte Russlands unter Kaiser Nicolaus I, 4 vols. 
(Berlin, 1904-1919), an important work; K. Stahlin, Geschichte Russ- 
lands , Vol. Ill (Stuttgart, 1935). For Poland, O. Halecki, History of 
Poland (London, 1942), W. F. Reddaway and others, The Cambridge 
History of Poland 1697-1935 (Cambridge, 1940), admirable, W. J. Rose, 
“Realism in Polish History” in }. of Central European Affairs, 1942, E. 
Krakowski, Histoire de la Pologne (Paris, 1934), S. P. Mizwa, ed., Great 
Men and Women of Poland (New York, 1931), A. E. Tennant, Studies 
in Polish Life and History (London, 1924), and W. Lednicki, Life and 
Culture of Poland (New York, 1944). On the secret societies, cf. E. Lenn- 
hoff, Histoire des societes secretes au XIX et au XX siecles (Paris, 1934) 
and J. H. Lepper, Les societi secretes (Paris, 1933), on the press, G. 
Weill, Le journal (Paris, 1934), and R. Magedier, Histoire de la press 
parisienne (Paris, 1945). 

Chapters I and II 


There are no general accounts of the European aristocracies of the 
early nineteenth century, though the memoirs of the time and the more 
recent biographies and general histories are particularly rich for this 
period in nearly every country. On the churches and the clergy, the 
general histories of the church, while brief for this period, should not 
be neglected; the following are the most useful: K, Heussi, Kompendium 
der Kirchengeschichte (new ed. Tubingen, 1933); D. H. Stephan and 
H. Leube, Handbuch der Kirchengeschichte , Part IV (2nd ed. Tubin- 
gen, 1931), L. Pullan, Religion since the Reformation (2nd ed. Ox- 
ford, 1924), Protestant; F. Mourret, Histoire generate de Veglise, 
Vols. VII and VIII (Paris, 1913), V. Martin and A. Dupront, Histoire 


de rEglise , VoL XX, La Crise revolutionnaire , Veglise pendant la pre- 
miere inoitie du XIX siecle (Paris, n.d.), Catholic. On the Jews, there 
is S. Dubnow, Histoire moderne du peuple juif, 2 vols. (Paris, 1933). 
The most detailed histories of the churches are those for individual coun- 
tries — for England: S. C. Carpenter, Church and People iy8g-i8gg (Lon- 
don, 1933), a good popularization, F. W. Cornish, The English Church 
in the igth Century , 2 vols. (London, 1910), the standard compend, 
J. W. Legg, English Church Life from the Restoration to the Tractarian 
Movement (London, 1914) and W. L. Mathieson, English Church 
Refoi'm 1815-40 (London, 1923), F. C. Gill, Romantic Movement and 
Methodism (London, 1937); R. F. Wearmouth, Methodism and the 
Working-Class Movements (London, 1937), and M. Edwards, After 
Wesley, A Study of the Influence of Methodism xygi-iS^g (London, 
1943); for France: A. Debidour, Histoire des rapports de Veglise et de 
Vetat e n France iy8g-i8yo , 2nd ed. (Paris, 19x1), a scholarly study, 
though strongly anticlerical; for Germany: Bachem, Vorgeschichte , 
Geschichte und Politi\ der deutschen Zentrumpartei , VoL I (Cologne, 
1927), J. B. Kissling, Der deutsche Protestantismus , i8iy-igiy, 2 vols. 
(Munster, 1917-18), A. Hauck, Kirchengeschichte Deutschlands , 4th 
ed., 5 vols. (Leipzig, 1904-1929), the standard work, and G. Goyau, 
U AUemagne rehgieuse, le Catholicisme 1800-1848, 6th ed., 2 vols. (Paris, 
1923), and by the same author, le Protestantisme , 9th ed. (Paris, 1924). 
Cf. also L. Maury, Le Reveil Religieux dans VEglise Reformee a Geneve 
et en France, 1810-1850, 2 vols. (Paris, 1892) and G. Goyau, line ville- 
eglise, Geneve 1535-igoy, 2nd ed., 2 vols. (Paris, 1919); for Russia: Brian- 
chaninov, The Russian Church (New York, 1931); for the Balkans, M. 
Spinka, A History of Christianity in the Balkans (Chicago, 1933), W. F. 
Adeney, The Gree\ and Eastern Churches (New York, 1908), FI. Masse 
Islam (New York, 1938), and FI. Lammens, Islam, Beliefs and Institutions 
(New York, n.d.); for the papacy, J. Schmidhn, Histoire des papes 
1800- (Paris, 1938 ff.), and J. T. Ellis, Cardinal Consalvi and Anglo- 
Papal Relations 1814-24 (Washington, 1942). For state administration, 
cf. E. Barker, The Development of the Public Services in Europe 1600 - 
1 93 ° (Oxford, 1944). 

Of a dozen or more recent compends on the general economic situa- 
tion in the early nineteenth century, the most useful are that of A. P. 
Usher, etc.. Economic History of Eu? ope Since ly^o (New York, 1937), 
H. Heaton, Economic History of Europe (New York, 1936), and A. 
Birnie, Economic History of Europe iy6o-ig30, 2nd ed. (New York, 
1931). Other good introductions covering more than one country are: 



J. H. Clapham, The Economic Development of France and Germany 
1815-19*4, 4th ed. (Cambridge, 1936), full of important material; L. 
Knowles, Economic Development in the Nineteenth Century (London, 
1932) , made up largely of lecture notes, collected after the author’s 
death; J . Kulischer, Allgemeine W i rtsch aftsgeschich te, VoL II (Munich, 
1929), the standard German manual; Laffitte, Memoires (Paris, 1932); 

E. Corti, j Rise of the House of Rothschild (New York, 1928), an inter- 
esting popularization in a field where there are few works of any type; 

F. Feldhaus, Kulturgeschichte der Techni\, 2 vols. (Berlin, 1928-1930); 
A. P. Usher, History of Mechanical Inventions (New York, 1929); these 
last two works contain much new material on inventions and on the 
whole story of the mechanization of industry. For population problems, 
cf. W. S. Thompson, Plenty of People , A Background of Population 
Problems (Lancaster, 1944). 

For England: there is the admirable work of J. H. Clapham, Economic 
History of Modern Britain , VoL I, 2nd ed. (Cambridge, 1931), M. and 
C. Quennell, A History of Everyday Things in England 1753-1851, 2nd 
ed. (London, 1939), excellent illustrations and M. J. Quinlan, Victorian 
Prelude , A History of English Manners 1700-1830 (New York, 1941); 
for France, the classic work of E. Levasseur, Histoire des classes ouvrieres 
et de Vindustne en France 1789-1870 , 2nd ed., 2 vols. (Paris, 1903-4), is 
still without a rival, though H. See, La vie economique de la France sous 
la monarchic censitaire 1815-48 (Paris, 1927), with a good bibliography, 
brings the subject up to date; for Germany, Sartorius von Walterhausen, 
Deutsche Wirtschaftsgeschichte 1815-1914 , 2nd ed. (Jena, 1923), P. 
Benaerts, Les origines de la grande Industrie allemande (Paris, 1933), 
E. Kohn-Bramstedt, Aristocracy and the Middle Classes in Germany 
1830-1900 (London, 1937), L. W. Kahn, Social Ideals in German Liter- 
ature 1770-1830 (New York, 1938) and J. Blum, “Transportation and 
Industry in Austria” in /. of Mod . Hist., 1943; for Italy: C. Barbagallo, 
Le origini della grande industria contemporanea , Vol. II (Venice, 1930), 
and K. R. Greenfield, Economics and Liberalism in the Risorgimento 
1814-48 (Baltimore, 1934). 

On the agricultural classes the best introduction is H. See, Esquisse 
d r une histoire du regime agraire en Europe aux XVIIle et XIXe siecles 
(Paris, 1921); L. P. Adams, Agricultural Depression and Farm Relief in 
England 1813-52 (London, 1932), W. F. Adams, Ireland and Irish 
Emigration to the New World from 1815 to the Famine (New Haven, 
1932), and G. S. Ford, Stein and the Era of Reform in Prussia (Prince- 
ton. 1922). 


3 00 

On the working classes the literature is very extensive; cf. especially 
G. D. H. Cole, A Short History of the British Wording-Class Movement , 
1789-1848, Vol. I (London, 1925), M. C. Buer, Health, Wealth, and 
Population in the Early Days of the Industrial Revolution (London, 
1926), P. Louis, Histoire de la classe ouvriere en France de la Revolution 
a nos jours (Paris, 1927) and work of Levasseur mentioned above. 

Chapter 111 


There exists no general work on European conservatism for this 
period; the best guide to this literature, as also to that on liberalism, is in 
the bibliographies appended to the biographical articles in the Encyclo- 
paedia of Social Sciences . The author found the following works useful: 
G. Brandes, Main Currents in Nineteenth Century Literature , 6 vols. 
(New York, 1901-1905), a brilliant example of the possibilities of relating 
literature and history, strongly liberal in outlook; H. Michel, Uidee de 
Vetat (Paris, 1896), also of value for the liberal and radical theorists in 
France, E. L. Woodward, Three Studies in European Conservatism 
(London, 1929); A. Cobban, Edmund Bur\e and the Revolt against the 
Eighteenth Century (London, 1929); C. Brinton, The Political Ideas of 
the English Romanticists (Oxford, 1926); D. C. Somervell, English 
Thought in the 19th Century , 2nd ed. (London, 1929); C. Schmitt, 
Politische Romanti'd , 2nd ed. (Munich, 1925); C. E. Vaughan, Studies 
in the History of Political Philosophy , 2 vols. (Manchester, 1925); P, 
Rohden, Joseph de Maistre (Munich, 1929); C. T. Muret, French Royalist 
Doctrines since the Revolution (New York, 1933): V. Basch, Les doc- 
trines politiques des philosophes classiques de V Allcmagne (Paris, 1927); 
R. Aris, Political Thought in Germany 1789-1815 (London, 1936), J. 
Spenle, La Pensee allemande (Paris, 1934), E. Tonnelat, “Le romanti- 
cisme politique en Allemagne apres 1812” in Rev . des cours et confer- 
ences, 1936; H. Meyer-Lindenberg, Das Problem der europaischen Or- 
ganisation und des Geisteslebens der Restaurationepoche (Liege, 1935), 
J. Hashager, “Der Rhythmus im Wandel von Reaktion und Revolution 
1815-52” in Hist V lerteljahr (1935), N. Anderson, “Nineteenth Cen- 
tury Europe, Liberal or Conservative?” in Social Education (1938), G. H. 
Mead, Movements of Thought in the Nineteenth Century (Chicago, 
1936), also references, Ch. IV. 



Chapter IV 


An excellent introduction to the doctrines of liberalism is G. de 
Ruggiero, The History of European Liberalism (Oxford, 1927), with 
good bibliography. Particularly valuable are the following works: J. A. 
Hawgood, Modern Constitution since ij8j (London, 1939), R. Soltau, 
French Political Thought in the Nineteenth Century (London, 1931), 
G. Boas, French Philosophies of the Romantic Period (Baltimore, 1925), 
J. P. Mayer, Political Thought in France from Si eyes to Sorel (London, 
1943), all also of use for the French conservative theorists; E. Halevy, 
Growth of Philosophic Radicalism (New York, 1928), one of the best 
studies of any single phase of modern political and social thought; C. 
Gide et Rist, History of Economic Doctrines (2nd Eng. ed., London, 
1948), the standard compend; K, Pinson, Bibliographical Introduction to 
Nationalism (New York, 1935); C.J.H. Hayes, The Historical Evolution 
of Modern Nationalism (New York, 1931); J. W. Adamson, English 
Education 1789-1902 (Cambridge, 1930), a comprehensive introduction; 
E. H. Reisner, Nationalism and Education since 1789 (New York, 1922), 
and the work of Meinecke on Germany, referred to among “General 
Works 55 ; also references, Ch. III. 

Chapter V 


The Congress of Vienna has been entirely restudied in two magistral 
works: C. W. Webster, The Foreign Policy of Castlereagh 1812-181$ 
(London, 1931), which maintains the thesis that Casdereagh was the 
founder of the system of congresses, and H. von Srbik, Metternich , der 
Staatsman und der Mensch , 2 vols. (Munich, 1925), an exhaustive work 
covering every aspect of Metternich 5 s activity; cf. also C. Dupuis, Le 
ministere de Talleyrand en 1814, 2 vols. (Paris, 1919-20); E. J. Knapton, 
Julie de Kriidener (New York, 1939) and by the same author, “Origins 
of the Treaty of the Holy Alliance 55 in History , 1941; Villa-Urrutia, 
Espana en el Congreso de Viena (2nd ed., Madrid, 1928). Some of the 
memoirs of the leading statesmen are of great value, both for the history 
of the Congress of Vienna and for the general history of the period: 
Charles Vane, ed., Memoirs and Correspondence of Castlereagh, 12 vols. 
(London, 1848-1853); R. Metternich, ed., Aus Metternich’ s nachgelas - 



scnen Papieren , 8 vols. (Vienna, 1880-1884), also an inferior English 
version, 5 vols. (New York, 1880-82); Talleyrand, Memoires , 5 vols. 
(Paris, 1891-92), English translation, 5 vols. (London, 1891-92); Welling- 
ton, ed , Despatches , Correspondence , a?7 d Memoranda of Arthur , 
of Wellington^ 8 vols. (London, 1867-80), Supplementary Dispatches , 
15 vols. (London, 1858-1872), F. von Gentz, Depeches medites, 3 vols. 
(Paris, 1876-77). For the history of the various states, 1815-1820, 
besides the general works noted above, cf. Aspinall, Brougham and the 
Whig Party (Manchester, 1927), an admirable study; T. Lever, Life and 
Times of Sir Robert Peel (London, 1943), W. R. Brock, Lord Liverpool 
and Liberal Toryism (London, 1940); F. J. C. Hearnshaw, Conservatism 
in England , An Analytical , Historical and Political Survey (London, 
1931), brief but suggestive; E. Pasquier, Memohes , 6 vols. (Paris, 1893- 
1895); Pierre de La Gorce, La Restaur ation, Louis XVIII (Paris, 1926); 
C. Pouthas, Guizot pendant la Restaur ation (Paris, 1923), a Paris doc- 
tor’s thesis, dense with new material; E. de Perceval, Laine et la vie 
parlementaire au temps de la Restauration, 2 vols. (Paris, 1926); H. von 
Srbik, Mettermch , 2 vols. (Munich, 1925); E. Kittel, “Metternich’s poli- 
tische Grundanschauungen” in Historische Vierteljahrschnft (1928), 
Vol. XXIV, one of the best recent studies of Metternich’s ideas and 
policies; V. Bibl, Metternich m neuer Belcuchtung (Vienna, 1928), at- 
tacks Srbik; F. von Hartig, “The Genesis of the Revolution in Austria” 
in Vol. IV of W. Coxe, History of the House of Austria (London, 1862), 
R. W. Seton-Watson, “Metternich’s Internal Austrian Policy” in Slavonic 
Rev., 1939, V. Valentin, 1848, Chapters of German History (London, 
1940); K. A. von Muller, Karl Ludwig Sand (Munich, 1925); G. 
Spmdler, Follen (Chicago, 19x7), with accounts of the whole Burse hen- 
schaften movement, and W. O. Henderson, Zollverein (Cambridge, 
1938); I. Raulich, Storia del risorgimento politico d’ltalia, 5 vols. (Bo- 
logna, 1920-1927), the most valuable of the longer histories of the Risor- 
gimento; A. Luzio, La massoneria e il risorgimento itahano , 2 vols. 
(Bologna, 1925), G. Mollat, La question romaine de Pie VI a Pie XI 
(Paris, 1932), a good manual, and A. Ferrari, La preparazione intel- 
lectuale del Risorgimento (Milan, 1923). 

Chapter VI 


The revolutionary disturbances of 1820-1825 are all discussed in the 
histories of the period, though a number of special studies of recent 



date contain new material For England: W. D. Bowman, The Divorce 
Case of Oueen Caroline (London, 1930), a popular account. For France: 
de Roux, La Restauration (Paris, 1930), a royalist apology; H. Dumo- 
lard, Didier et la conspiration de Grenoble (Grenoble, 1928); G. Weill, 
Histoire du parti repubhcain en France 1814-1870 , 2nd ed. (Paris, 1928). 
For the Quadruple Alliance and the Congresses: the whole subject has 
been entirely revised by three important works, C. K. Webster, The 
Foreign Policy of Castlereagh 1815-22 (London, 1934); H. Temperley, 
The Foreign Policy of Canning (London, 1925); and D. Perkins, The 
Monroe Doctrine 1825-6 (Cambridge, 1927). For the Spanish Revolu- 
tion and the French intervention in Spain: J. Sarrailh, Martinez de la 
Rosa 1787-1862 (Bordeaux, 1930), and by the same author, La contre- 
r evolution sous la Regence de Madrid (Bordeaux, 1930); Villa-Urrutia, 
Fernando VII , Rey constitucional (Madrid, 1922); all three contain inter- 
esting new material; Geoffrey de Grandmaison, L’ expedition franqaise 
d’Espagne en 1825 (Paris, 1928); E. Beau de Lomenie, La carnere poli- 
tique de Chateaubriand 1814-1850 , 2 vols. (Paris, 1929) and A. R. Ver- 
duin, Manual of Spanish Constitutions (Ypsilanti, 1941). For the Italian 
Revolutions: A. Segre, Vittorio Emanuele I (Turin, 1928); F. Lemmi, 
Carlo Felice (Turin, 1931); N. Rodolico, Carlo Alberto (Florence, 1931), 
a valuable re-estimate; T. Rossi e C. P. Demagistri, La rivoluzione del 
1821 (Turin, 1927); C. Vidal, Charles Albert et le Risorgimento (Paris, 
1927); A. Falcionelli, Les societes secretes en Italie (Paris, 1936), and 
J. H. Brady, Rome and the Neapolitan Revolution (New York, 1937). 
For Russia: P. Miliukov, ed., Histoire de Russie , Vol. II (Paris, 1935), 
T. G. Masaryk, The Spirit of Russia, 2 vols. (London, 1919), brief on 
this period; A. Kornilov, Modern Russian History, rev. ed. (New York, 
1924), a good compend; J. Mavor, An Economic History of Russia, 2nd 
ed., 2 vols. (London, 1925); A. Koyre, La philosophic et le probleme 
national en Russie au debut du XIXe siecle (Paris, 1929); G. Vernadsky, 
La charte constitutionnelle de V Empire russe de Van 1820 (Paris, 1933). 
For Poland, besides Krakowski and the general works on the Restora- 
tion: cf. M. Handelsman, Les idees franqaises et la mentalite politique en 
Pologne (Paris, 1927), a series of lectures, thin but containing some 
material not available elsewhere; B. Winiarski, Les institutions politiques 
en Pologne au XIXe siecle (Paris, 1928); E. Krakowski, Mic\iewicz 
(Paris, 1935). For the Decembrist Outbreak in Russia, the best recent 
material in the languages of western Europe is in four special numbers 
of the Monde slave (December, 1925, and January, June, and December, 
1926); and in articles: by D. Mirsky, “The Decembrists” in Slavonic 
Review (December, 1925), a brilliant analysis; E. Hurwicz, “Zur Cha- 



rakteristik von Pestel” in Archiv fiir die Geschichte des Sozialismus, Vol. 
13, 1928; and A. G. Mazour, The First Russian Revolution (Berkeley, 
1937 )- 

Chapter Vll 


The best recent manual of the history of science is J. D. Dampier, 
History of Science , 3rd ed, (New York, 1942). Cf. also H, T. Pledge, 
Science since 1500 (London, 1939). Valuable studies of the development 
of individual sciences are: F. Klein, V orlesungen iiber die Entwicfylung 
der Mathemati\ im 19 Jahrhundert , 2 vols. (Berlin, 1926-27); E. Radi, 
History of Biological Theories (Oxford, 1930); E. Hoppe, Histoire de la 
physique (Paris, 1928); M. Oswald, U evolution de la chimie au XIXe 
siecle (Paris, 1921); and A. Castiglioni, History of Medicine (New 
York, 1941); nearly all these books contain detailed accounts of the 
developments of the sciences in the early nineteenth century. 

For modern archaeological discovery cf. S. Casson, The Discovery of 
Man (New York, 1940). The history of comparative philology is 
sketched in the appendix of A. Meillet, Introduction a V etude comparative 
des langues indo-europeennese , 6th ed. (Paris, 1924); a fuller account is 
in H. Pedersen, Linguistic Science in the Nineteenth Century (Cam- 
bridge, 1931). The history of history is ably surveyed in E. Fueter, 
Histoire de V historiographie moderne (Paris, 1914), and more fully in 
G. P. Gooch, History and Historians of the 19th Century , 2nd ed. (Lon- 
don, 1913). 

Useful introductions to the romantic movement in literature are P. Van 
Tieghem, Le mouvement romantique , 3rd ed. (Paris, 1940), a collection 
of texts with brief commentary; J. C. Blankenagel and others, “Roman- 
ticism, a Symposium” in Pub. Mod . Lang. Ass., 1940, and A. O. Lovejoy, 
“Meaning of Romanticism for the Historian of Ideas” in /. of Hist, of 
Ideas , 1941; for England: O. Elton, A Survey of English Literature 
iySo-1880 , 4 vols. (London, 1920), is excellent; cf. also H. V. D. Dyson 
and J. Butt, Augustans and Romantics 1660-1830 (London, 1940) with 
detailed bibliographies; for Germany: L. A. Willoughby, The Romantic 
Movement in Germany (Oxford, 1930), a brief account; O. Walzel, 
German Romanticism (New York, 1932), philosophic; W. Kosch, Die 
deutsche Liter atur im Spiegel der Nationalen Entwickjung , Vol. I 
(Munich, 1925), and R. Haym, Die Romantische Schule, 5th ed. (Ber- 
lin, 1928), the standard work, cf. also F. E. Pierce and C. F. Schreiber, 
Fiction and Fantasy of German Romance , selections from German 



Romantic Authors 1590-18 30 in English Translation (Oxford, 1927); 
for France: R. Bray, Chronologic du romantisme (Paris, 1932), P. Moreau, 
he Romantisme (Paris, 1932), N. H. Clement, Romanticism in France 
(Oxford, 1939), excellent introductions; and M. Souriau, Histoire du ro- 
mantisme en % France, 3 vols. (Paris, 1927-28), the best general work in the 
field; for Italy: H. Hauvette, La Literature italienne , 6th ed. (Paris, 
1924), brief but masterful treatment; for Spain: E. Merimee and S. 
Morley, History of Spanish Literature (New York, 1930), E. Piheyro, 
The Romantics of Spain (Liverpool, 1934), and E. A. Peers, History of 
the Romantic Movement in Spain , 2 vols. (New York, 1940); for 
Russia: D. S. Mirsky, A History of Russian Literature (New York, 
1927), and A. Luther, Geschichte der russischen Literatur (Leipzig, 
1924); for Poland: A. Bruckner, Geschichte der polnischen Literatur , 
2nd ed. (Leipzig, 1909), contains material on political and social condi- 
tions, and J. Krzyzanowski, Polish Romantic Literature (New York, 
1931); for Hungary: F. Riedl, History of Hungarian Literature (New 
York, 1924), W. Loew, ed., Magyar Poetry f Selections (New York, 
1899), and G. Kornis, Ungarische Kulturideale 1555-1848 (Leipzig, 
1940), G. Farkas, Die ungarische Romanti\ (Berlin, 1931); for the 
Czechs: H. Jelinek, Histoire de la litter ature tcheque des origines a 1850 
(Paris, 1930), and P. Selver, Czechoslovak Literature (London, 1942). 
There are two special numbers of the Revue de htterature comparee 
(January-March, 1927, and January-March, 1930) devoted to roman- 
ticism. For comparisons cf. G. Boas, ed., Romanticism in America (Balti- 
more, 1940). 

The history of the fine arts is best followed in A. Michel, Histoire de 
Part , Vol. VII (Paris, 1925), with full bibliographies; cf. also H. Focillon, 
La peinture au XIXe siecle , 2 vols. (Paris, 1927-28), F. Landsberger, Die 
Kunst der Goethezeit 1550-1850 (Leipzig, 1930), A. T. Leitich, Wiener 
Biedermaier 1815-1848 (Leipzig, 1941), and V. Husarski, Le Style Ro - 
mantique (Paris, 1931), and three interesting studies in the history of 
taste: F. P. Chambers, The History of Taste (New York, 1932), C. 
Hussey, The Picturesque (London, 192 7), and K. Clark, The Gothic 
Revival (London, 1928). For music, a standard work is J. Combarieu, 
Histoire de la musique , Vols. II and III (Paris, 1913-1919), with bibliog- 
raphy. There is some interesting material on the conditions of musical 
education and of musical performance in E. Newman, Life of Wagner , 
Vol I (New York, 1933). 

On the liberal and socialistic currents, 1820-1830, cf. K. R. Greenfield, 
“Economic Ideas and Facts of the Early Period of the Risorgimento 
1815-48’* in American Historical Review (October, 1930), and his more 



extended study referred to above; on Liberal Catholicism: G. Weill, 
Histoire du catholiasme hbetal en France 1828-1908 (Paris, 1909), a 
scholarly study, and V. Giraud, La vie tragi que de Lamennais (Paris, 
1933), a good popularization; on Bonapartism: the most recent work, 
and the best, is that of J. Deschamps, Sur la legende de Napoleon (Paris, 
1931); also of value are H. A. L. Fisher, Bonapartism (Oxford, 1908), 
P, Gonnard, Les engines de la legende napoleomenne (Paris, 1906), and 
A. L. Guerard, Reflections on the Napoleonic Legend (New York, 1924); 
on Philhellenism (there is no general work on the subject): W. Biingel, 
Der Pkilkellenismus in Deutschland 1821-29 (Marburg, 1917); M. Cline, 
American Attitude toward the Gree\ War of Independence (Atlanta 
1930), and V* Penn, “Philhellenism in England,’’ “Philhellenism in 
Europe,” Slavonic Review , 1936, 1938. On socialism: W. Sombart, Der 
proletarische Soziahsmus , 2 vols. (Jena, 1924), and M. Beer, Allgemeine 
Geschichte des Sozialismus , 2 vols. (Berlin, 1922-23), both superior to 
any works in English or French; C. Bougie, Sociahsmes frangais (Paris, 
X932); M. Beer, History of British Socialism , new ed., 2 vols. (London, 
1929); and G. D. H. Cole, Life of Robert Owen , 2nd ed. (London, 1930). 

Chapter VIII 


England: The change in British foreign policy after 1822 is traced 
in H. Temperley, The Foreign Policy of Canning 1822-7 (London, 
1925); in domestic policy, in A. Brady, Hus\isson and Liberal Reform 
(Oxford, 1928); cf. also A. Aspinall, Lord Brougham and the Whig 
Party (Manchester, 1927) and Aspinall’s further comments in Eng . Hist . 
Rev 1944; M. W. Patterson, Sir Francis Burden and His Times > 2 vols. 
(London, 1931), contains some new material but is poorly constructed; 
W. R. Brock, Lord Liverpool and Liberal Toryism 1820-1827 (Cam- 
bridge, 1941); D. G. Barnes, History of the English Corn Laws 1660- 
1846 (London, 1930); C. R, Fay, The Corn Laws and Social England 
(Cambridge, 1932); G. D. H. Cole, Life of William Cobbett (New York, 
1924); G. Wallas, Life of Francis Place , 4th ed. (London, 1925), the last 
two are particularly useful; W. H. Wickwar, The Struggle for the 
Freedom of the Press 1819-32 (London, 1928), The History of the 
Times , Vol. I (London, 1935); for the Irish Question: D. Gwynn, 
O'Connell , the Irish Liberator (London, 1929), J. E. Pomfret, The Strug- 
gle for Land in Ireland 1800-1923 (Princeton, 1930), and a collection of 
essays, Catholic Emancipation 1829-1929 (London, 1929). 



France: There is an excellent analysis of the political situation under 
Charles X in Pierre de La Gorce, La restauration , Charles X (Paris, 
1928); the governments manipulation of elections is shown in Pilenco, 
Les mosurs electorates en France , Regime censitaire (Paris, 1928), its 
educational policy in A. Gamier, Frayssinous, Son role dans VUniversite 
sous la restauration (Paris, 1925), and its attempt to strengthen the 
nobility in A. Gain, La restauration et les hiens des emigres , 2 vols. 
(Nancy, 1928); the last three works are all based on extensive study of 
archival material. 

Austria: On Austrian policies in Germany and Italy, cf. the general 
works referred to and also those cited in the bibliographical note to 
Chapter V. In addition, the following works are of use: V. Bibl, Der 
Zerfall Osterreichs , Vol. I (Vienna, 1922); for the cultural nationalist 
movements among the Austrian Slavs: A. Fischel, Der Panslawismus bis 
zum Welthrieg (Berlin, 1919), and E. Lemberg, Grundlagen des na- 
tionalen Erwachens in Bohmen (Reichenberg, 1932); for Hungary: D. 
Angyal, “Szechenyi” in Revue des etudes hongroises et finno-ougriennes 
(1926), and F. Eckhart, Introduction a Vhistoire hongroise (Paris, 1928), 
English translation (London, 1931 ), and O. Zarek, Kossuth (London, 
1937); for the Southern Slavs: two works by H. Wendel, Aus dem sud- 
slawischen Risorgimento (Gotha, 1921), and Der Kampj der Sudslawen 
um Freiheit und Einheit (Frankfort, 1925). 

The decay of the Ottoman Empire and the Serbian and Greek Revo- 
lutions: E. Engelhardt, La Turquie et le Tanzinat , 2 vols. (Paris, 
1882-83); G. Rosen, Geschichte der Tur\ei, 2 vols. (Leipzig, 1866-67); 
K. von Sax, Geschichte des Machtverjall der Turret, new ed. (Vienna, 
1913); and the extraordinary Ubicini, Letters on Tur\ey> 2 vols. (Lon- 
don, 1856); these are written with more understanding of Ottoman 
political and economic problems than many of the more recent works. 
W. W. Wright, The Process of Change in the Ottoman Empire (Chicago, 
3:937), and W. Miller, The Ottoman Empire and its Successors 1801-1934 
(Cambridge, 1934), W. M. Gewehr, Rise of Nationalism in the Balkans 
1800-1930 (New York, 1931), and F. Schevill, History of the Balkan 
Peninsula , new ed. (New York, 1933), are good introductory manuals. 
Cf. also H. Temperley, England and the Near East , Vol. I, Ch. x (Lon- 
don, 1936), and F. E. Bailey, British Policy and the Turkish Reform 
Movement 1826-33 (Cambridge, 1943). For the Christian peoples under 
Ottoman rule: A. Xenopol, Histoire des Roumains , 2 vols. (Paris, 1896); 
Seton-Watson, History of the Roumanians (Cambridge, 1934); T. W. 
Riker, The Maying of Roumania (Oxford, 1931) ; M. Emerit, Les Pay sans 
roumains 1829-64 (Paris, 1937), and D. Mitrany, The Land and the 


Peasant in Roumania (London, 1930); E. Haumant, La formation de la 
Yougo-Slavie (Paris, 1930), die best work on the history of the Serbs. 
Cf. also W. A. Morison, tr., The Revolt of the Serbs against the Tur\s 
(New York, 1942); A. Hajck, Bulgarian unter der Tiir\en herrsc haft 
(Stuttgart, 1925), a scholarly study; also I. Sakazov, Bulgansche Wirt - 
schaftsgeschichte (Berlin, 1929), and S. S. Bolchev, La Societe Bulgare 
sous la Domination Otto mane (Sofia, 1935). The most detailed account 
of the Serbian Revolt is G. Yakschitch, L* Europe et la resurrection de la 
Serbia 1804-34, 2n ^ ed. (Paris, 1917); on the Greek Revolt three older 
works, K. Mendelssohn-Bartholdy, Geschichte Griechenlands , Vol. II 
(Leipzig, 1874), G. F. Hertzberg, Geschichte Griechenlands , Vols. Ill 
and IV (Gotha, 1879), an< 3 G. Finlay, History of Greece , Vols. VI and 
VII, new ed. (Oxford, 1877), are still of value; cf. also E. S. Foster, A 
Shon History of Modern Greece (London, 1941), N. Kaltchas, Intro- 
duction to the Constitutional History of Modern Greece (New York, 
1940), A. Dascalakis, Rhigas (Paris, 1937), A. Svolos, “L’influence des 
idees de la Revolution frangaise sur les constitutions helleniques,” Revolu- 
tion franqaise , Vol. I, n.s. and S. G. Chaconas, Kora'ts (New York, 1942), 
J. Baggally, Ali Pasha and Great Britain (Oxford, 1938), H. Dodwell, The 
Founder of Modem Egypt Muhammad Ali (Cambridge, 1931), E. 
Driault, U expedition de Crete et de Moree 1823-28 (Cairo, 1930), and G, 
Douin, Navarin (Cairo, 1927), the first scholarly treatments based on 
study of the Egyptian archives. Cf. also P, Carbites, Ibrahim of Egypt 
(London, 1935). The diplomacy of the Greek Revolt has been recently 
restudied in E. Driault et M. Lheritier, Histoire diplomatique de la 
Grece, Vol. I (Paris, 1925), and C. W. Crawley, The Question of Gree\ 
Independence (Cambridge, 1930); the latter lays emphasis on the English 

Chapter IX 


The July Revolution in France: Besides the works of Charlety, 
Pouthas, and de La Gorce, already cited, cf. J. M. S. Allison, Thiers and 
the French Monarchy (Boston, 1926), the author had access to Thiers’ 
papers; G. Gautherot, Un gentilhomme de grand chemin, le Marechal 
de Bourmont (Paris, 1926); two articles by P. Mantoux, “Talleyrand 
en 1830” in Revue historique (1902) and “Patrons et ouvriers en 
juillet 1830” in Revue d y histoire moderne et contemporaine (1901-2), 
which have modified the older views on the July Revolution; E. Marc, 



Mes journees de juillet 1830 (Paris, 1930), and several important articles 
in 1830 Etudes sur les mouvements hberaux et nationaux de 1830 
(Paris, 1932), especially B. Mirkine-Guetzevitch, “1830 dans revolution 
constitutionnelle de FEurope,” and G. Huber, Kriegsgejahr uber Euro pa 
1830-2 (Berlin, 1936). 

Holland and Belgium: The best introduction to the history of the 
Belgian question after 1815 is H. Pirenne, Histoire de la Belgique, 
Vols. VI and VII (Brussels, 1926-1932), and to the history of Holland, 
H. T. Colenbrander, Vestiging van het Konin\rij\ 1813-13 (Amster- 
dam, 1927); also of value are C. Terlinden, Guillaume 1 et Veglise 
catholique , 2 vols. (Brussels, 190 6), R. Demouhn, Guillaume 1 et la 
transformation economique des provinces beiges 1813-30 (Paris, 1938); 
A. Calmes, Le grand-duche de Luxembourg dans le royaume des 
Pays-Bas 1813-30 (Brussels, 1932); P. Harsin, Essai sur V opinion pu- 
blique en Belgique de 1813 a 1830 (Charleroi, 1930); M. Bologne, h’ in- 
surrection proletarienne de 1830 en Belgique (Brussels, 1929), impor- 
tant, R. Demoulin, Les journees de Septembre 1830 a Bruxelles et en 
p-ovince (Paris, 1934); R. Demoulin, “Travaux recents relatifs a l’histoire 
de la Belgique 1789-1840” in Rev . d’hist. mod ., 1940; for studies of in- 
dividual leaders: Louis de Potter, Souvenirs , 2 vols. (Brussels, 1839); 

J. Garsou, Alexandre Gendebien (Brussels, 1930); P. de Gerlache, Ger - 
lache et la fondation de la Belgique independante (Brussels, 1931); F. de 
Lannoy, Histoire diplomatique de Vindependance beige (Brussels, 1930); 
W. E. Lingelbach, “Belgian Neutrality” in American Historical Review 
( I 933) ; L. de Lichtervelde, Le congres national de 1830 (Brussels, 1922), 
and by the same author, Leopold l (New York, 1930); E. Corti, Leopold 
1 (New York, 1923). 

Germany: Besides the general works, V. Valentin, Das Hambacher 
Nationalfest (Berlin, 1932); J. Dresch, Gutz\ow et la Jeune-Allemagne 
(Paris, 1904); E. M. Buder, The Saint-Simonian Religion in Germany , 
A Study of the Young Germany Movement (Cambridge, 1926); and 

K. Sternberg, Heines geistige Gestalt und Welt (Berlin, 1929); also V. 
Valentin, Geschichte der deutschen Revolution von 1848-9, VoL I (Ber- 
lin, 1930). 

Italy: In addition to the studies on Italy already cited, cf. G. Salve- 
mini, Mazzini (Rome, 1920); G. O. Griffith, Mazzini (New York, 
1932), a good popularization; C. Vidal, Louis Philippe , Metternich, et 
la crise italienne de 1831-32 (Paris, 1931); G. Ruffini, Le cospirazioni del 
1831 (Bologna, 1931); and M. C. Wicks, The Italian Exiles in London, 
18x6-48 (Manchester, 1937). 

Switzerland; The two standard histories are J. Dierauer, Geschichtt 



der schweizerischen Eidengenossenschaft bis 1848 , VoL V (Gotha, 
1917), and E. Gagliardi, Histoire de la Suisse ? VoL V (Lausanne, 1925); 
cf. also E, His, Geschichte des neueren schweizerischen Staatsrecht , VoL 
II (Basel, 1929); A. Piaget, Histoire de la revolution neuchateloise, 
Vols. Ill and IV (Neuchatel, 1919, 1925); and G. Guggfenbuhl, Bur- 
germeister Usteri (Aarau, 1924). 

Poland: M. Handelsman, “Letat actuel des etudes relatives a Phis- 
toire de 1830-1 en Pologne” in 1830, Etudes sur les mouvements liber aux 
et nationaux de 1830 (Paris, 1932), and another bibliographical article 
by Z. Krzemicka in fahrbucher fur Kultur und Geschichte der Slaven , 
new series, VoL VII. Various new aspects of the Polish Revolt are 
treated in A. Lewak, “The Polish Rising of 1830,” in Slavonic Review 
(1930); J. Rappaport, “L’insurrection polonaise 1830,” in Monde slave , 
1933-8; Muller, Die Rolen in der offentlichen Meinung Deutschlands 
1830-2 (Marburg, 1923); and Grzebieniowski, “The Polish Cause in 
England a Century Ago’ , in Slavonic Review (1932). 

Spain and Portugal: J. Becker, Historia de las relaciohes exterior es 
de Espana durante el siglo XIX , 3 vols. (Madrid, 1924-26), an important 
work; Nunez de Arenas, La expedicion de Vera de 1830 (Madrid, 
1927); and Hadenque, “Une equipee franchise au Portugal (1833)” in 
Revue des questions historiques (1925). For the liberal movement in 
Spain, besides works referred to above cf. J. Castillejo, Wars of Idealism 
m Spain (London, 1937) and R. M. Smith, The Day of the Liberals in 
Spain (Philadelphia, 1938), 

England: All the general works give much attention to the Reform 
Bill of 1832. Cf. also: G. M. Trevelyan, Lord Grey of the Reform Bill , 
2nd ed. (London, 1929); Richard Hill, Toryism and the People 1832-46 
(London, 1929); G. K. Clarke, Sir Robert Peel and the Conservative 
Party 1832-41 (London, 1929); H. W. C. Davis, The Age of Grey and 
Peel (Oxford, 1929); J. R. M. Buder, The Passing of the Great Reform 
Bill (London, 1914); G. Milner, The Threshold of the Victorian 
Age (London, 1934); and the essay by Halevy in A. Coville and H. 
Temperley, Studies in Anglo-French History (Cambridge, 1935); on the 
consequences of the Reform Bill, cf. O. F. Christie, The Transition from 
Aristocracy (London, 1928), M. Hovell, The Chartist Movement , 2nd 
ed. (Manchester, 1925), a remarkable study, S. F. Wooley, “The per- 
sonnel of the Parliament of 1833,” English Historical Review , 1938, 
J. A. Thomas, House of Commons 1832-1901, A Study of Its Economic 
and Functional Character (Oxford, 1939); and S. Maccoby, English 
Radicalism 1832-32 (London, 1935). 




Political and Social Thought: B. Menczer, Catholic Political Thought 
1789-1848 (London, 1952); L. Salvatorelli, Pensiero politico italiano 
1700-1870 (Turin, 4th ed., 1943); J. J. Anstett, La pensee religieuse de 
Friedrich Schlegel (Paris, 1942); A. Roche, Les idees traditionalistes en 
France (Urbana, 1937); D. Bagge, Les idees politiques en France sous 
la Restauration (Paris, 1952); A. J. George, Ballanche (Syracuse, 1945); 
A. Koyrd, “Bonald,” in /. of Hist . of Ideas , 1946; A. Omodeo, La cultura 
francese nelV eta della Restaurazione (Milan, 1946), a penetrating study; 

F. Bayle, Les idees politiques de Joseph de Maistre (Paris, 1945); J- B. 
Duroselle, Les debuts du catholicisme social en France, 1822-1870 (Paris, 

1951) ; R. Kothen, La pensee et Paction sociales des Catholiques 1789 - 
1944 (Paris, 1947); E. N. Anderson, “German Romanticism as an Ideol- 
ogy of Cultural Crisis” in /. of Hist . of Ideas, 1941; J. S. Schapiro, 
Liberalism and the Challenge of Fascism 1817-70 (New York, 1949), 
excellent; G. Weill, LiEurope du XIX siecle et Videe de nationalite (Paris, 
1938); J. P. Mayer, Political Thought in France from the Revolution to 
the Fourth Republic (2nd ed., London, 1949); H. Brunschwig, La crise 
de l f Stat prussien de 1817 et la mentalite romantique (Paris, 1947); 
E. Halevy, Histoire de socialisme Europe en (Paris, 1948); M. Leroy, 
Les prScurseurs frangais du socialisme (Paris, 1948); M. Leroy, Histoire 
des idees sociales en France, Vol. II, Babeuf a Tocqueville (Paris, 1951); 

G. D. H. Cole, Socialist Thought, the Forerunners 1789-1870 (London, 
1953); E). O. Evans, Social Romanticism in France (Oxford, 1951), with 
an extraordinary bibliography on early French socialism; J. J. Chevallier, 
Les grandes oeuvres politiques de Machiavelli a nos jours (Paris, 1949) 
and J. A. Schumpter, History of Economic Analysis (2 vols., Oxford, 

1952) . 

On the Catholic Church: J. Leflon, Histoire de PEglise, la crise revo~ 
lutionnaire , 1789-1846 (Paris, 1949); R. Wichterich, Consalvi 1777-1824 
(Heidelberg, 1951); and B. Bastgen, Bayern und der Heilige Stuhl in 
der ersten Halfie des 19 Jahrhunderts (Munich, 1940). 

On Economic Conditions: G. D. H. Cole, Introduction to Economic 
History, 1770-1970 (London, 1952), brilliant survey; T. S. Ashton, The 
Industrial Revolution (Oxford, 1948); A. Aspinall, The Early English 
Trade Unions (London, 1949); W. Hoffman, The Structure of English 
Industry from 1700 to the Present (Oxford, 1950); A. L. Dunham, “The 
Economic History of France 18x5-70” in /. of Mod . Hist,, 1949; J. 
Redlich, “LafHtte and the Beginnings of Investment Banking” in Bulletin 
of Business Hist , Soc., 1948; S. B. Clough, France, a History of National 



Economics , 1789-1939 (New York, 1939); C. Moraze, La France bour- 
geoises 18-19 siecles (Paris, 1946); F. Rude, Lc mouvement ouvrier a 
Lyon de 1827 a 1932 (Paris, 1944); P. Louis, “Ouvrier frangais de Louis 
XVIII a Louis-Philippe” in Revue politique et parlementaire , 1946; 
A. H. Price, The Evolution of the Zollverein , 1813-33 (Ann Arbor, 
1949); F. Blum, Noble Landowners and Agriculture in Austria, 1815-48 
(Baltimore, 1948); J. van Houtte, Esquisse d'une histoire econo mique 
de la Belgique (Brussels, 1946); and P. Lyashchenko, History of the 
National Economy of Russia to 1917 (New York, 1949). 

On Public Administration, cf. E. Barker, The Development of Public 
Services in Western Europe 1660-1930 (Oxford, 1944); and E. W. Cohen, 
Growth of the British Civil Service 1780-1939 (London, 1941). 

On Diplomacy: K. W. Seton-Watson, Britain in Europe 1789-1914 
(London, 1937), best survey of diplomatic history; H. G. Schenk, The 
Aftermath of the Napoleonic Wars (London, 1947), poorly organized, 
but full of fresh material on both diplomacy and the internal conditions 
of the European States; J. H. Pirenne, La Sainte Alliance (Paris, 
1946 ff.); H. A. Strauss, The Attitude of the Congress of Vienna toward 
Nationalism (New York, 1949); C. M. Woodhouse, The Gree\ War of 
Independence (London, 1951), now the best introduction; D. Dakin, 
“Origins of the Greek Revolution of 1821 ” in History, 1952; W. W. 
Kaufman, British policy and the Independence of Latin America, 1804 - 
1828 (New Haven, 1951); R. A. Humphreys, Liberation in South Amer- 
ica 1806-1827 (London, 1952); C. K. Webster, Palmerston, Metternich 
and the European System 1830-1841 (London, 1934), and by the same 
author, The Foreign Policy of Palmerston (2 vols., London, 1951), a 
superb work. 

On Romanticism in the Arts: F. Baldensperger and Friederich, Bibli- 
ography of Comparative Literature (Chapel Hill, 1950), indispensable; 
P. Van Tieghem, Le Romantisme dans la Literature europeene (Paris, 
1948), a masterpiece, and now the best introduction to the whole subject; 
N. Segur, Histoire de la litterature, Vol. IV, Liepoque romantique (Paris, 
1951); and J, Bertaut, Histoire de la vie litter air e, Yepoque romantique 
(Paris, 1951); for France, England and Germany, the best introductions 
remain the following: J. Giraud, Uecole romantique (2nd ed., Paris, 
1931); C. H. Herford, The Age of W ordsworth (new ed., London, 
1930) and R. Benz, Die deutsche Romanti\ (Leipsig, 1937); cf. also 
J, L. Salvan, “Recent French Criticisms on Romanticism 51 in Symposium, 
1947; E. Bernbaum, The English Romantic Poets (New York, 1950), 
a review of research; F. Schultz, Klassi\ und Romanti\ (2nd ed., 2 vols., 
Stuttgart, 1952); M. Kridl, ed., Michjewicz, a Symposium (New York, 
1951); P. L. Barbour tr., Boris Godonov (New York, 1953). There are 



some valuable studies in A. O. Love joy, Essays in the History of Ideas 
(Baltimore, 1948). On music: A. Einstein, Music in the Romantic Era 
(New York, 1947); J. Barzun, Berlioz and the Romantic Century , 2 
vols. (Boston, 1950), excellent; P. C. R. Landormy, La musique frangaise 
de la Marseillaise a la mort de Berlioz (Paris, 1944). On the Fine Arts: 
W. Friedlaender, David to Delacroix (Cambridge, Mass., 1952), first 
rate; K. Clark, The Gothic Revival (2nd ed., London, 1950); F. G. 
Klingender, Art and the Industrial Revolution (London, 1948); P. 
Reilly, An Introduction to Regency Architecture (London, 1948); D. 
Pilcher, The Regency Style 1800-1830 (London, 1948); L. Reau, Here 
romantique , des arts plastiques (Paris, 1950), admirable; and P. Lavedan, 
Histoire de Van, VoL II (2nd ed., Paris, 1950), with fine bibliography. 

England: A. Bryant, The Age of Elegance 1812-1822 (London, 1950), 
very readable; C. R. Fay, Hushjsson and His Age (New York, 1951); 
and A. Aspinall, Politics and the Press 1 380-1830 (London, 1949). 

France: J. P. Bury, Prance 1814-1940 (2nd ed., London, 1950), excel- 
lent survey; R. Burnand, La vie quotidienne en France vers 1830 (Paris, 
1943); A. D. Toledano, La vie de famille sous la Restauration et la 
Monarchic de Juillet (Paris, 1944); J. J. Chevallier, Histoire des insti- 
tutions politiques de la France de 1389 a an jours (Paris, 1950); J. Plame- 
natz, The Revolutionary Movement in France 1813-1831 (London, 
1952), brilliant; L. Grimaud, Histoire de la liberte de V enseignement 
en France, VoL V, La restauration (Paris, 1950); Bertier de Sauvigny, 
Bertier et Venigme de la Congregation (Paris, 1948), the most impor- 
tant book on the politics of the Restoration to appear in a generation, 
shows that there was a secret Ultra-Royalist political society which was 
very active and that the Congregation was a purely religious society, 
thesis summarized infra pp. 402-7; and Dansette, Histoire religieuse de 
la France contemporaine, VoL I (Paris, 1948), C. Pouthas, Ueglise et 
ces questions rehgieuses (Paris, n.d.), important; F. Ponteil, La mon- 
archic parlementaire 1813-1848 (Paris, 1949), a good survey; P. Robin- 
Harmel, Polignac 1829-1843 (Paris, 1950); and Montlosier, Souvenirs 
d'un emigre (Paris, 1951). 

Italy: C. Spellanzon, Storia del Risorgimento italiano (Milan, 1933 if.), 
most complete, critical history of Italy in first half of nineteenth century; 
L. Olschki, The Genius of Italy (Oxford, 1949); G. Volpe, Italia 
moderna 1813-191$ , VoL I (Florence, 1946); A. Ferrari, L’ltaha durante 
la Restaurazione 1813-1849 (Rome, 1935); W. Maturi, II principe di 
Canosa (Florence, 1944) E. P. Noether, Seeds of Italian Nationalism 
1300-1813 (New York, 1951); G. T. Romani, The Neapolitan Revolution 
of 1820-1821 (Evanston, 1950), B. Wall, Manzoni (Cambridge, 1953). 



Germany: Two important general histories of Germany are E. Ver- 
meil, Germany's Three Reichs (London, 1945); and V. Valentin, The 
German People , Their History and Civilization (New York, 1946). As 
interpretations of German civilization we now have G. P. Gooch and 
others, The German Mind and Outloo\ (London, 1945); -W. Ebenstein, 
The German Record (New York, 1945); A. J. P. Taylor, The Course 
of German History . . . Since 1815 (New York, 1946), the last a brilliant 
performance; M. von Boehn, Biedcrmeier: Deutschland 1815-184.7 (Ber- 
lin, 1911), filled with excellent material on political and social life; F. 
Schnabel, Deutsche Geschichte im Neunzchnten fahrhundert, Vol. Ill 
(Freiburg, 1950), continues his basic work; R. H. Thomas, Liberalism , 
Nationalism , and the German Intellectuals 1822-1847 (Cambridge, 1952); 
and C. Brinkmann, Friedrich List (Berlin, 1949)- On Austria cf. H. von 
Srbik, Deutsche Einheit , 4 vols. (Munich, 1935-42); H. Pinchegger, 
Geschichte und Kulturleben Deutsches Qesterreichs 1792-1914 (Vienna, 
1937); J. K. Mayr, Wien im Zeitalter Napoleons (Vienna, 1940); and 
C. de Griinwald, Metternich (London, 1951). 

Slavs in General: L. I. Strakhovsky, ed., A Handboo\ of Slavic Studies 
(Cambridge, 1949); J. S. Roucek, ed., Slavonic Encyclopedia (New 
York, 1949); S. H. Cross, Slavic Civilization (Cambridge, 1948); S. H. 
Thomson, Czechoslovakia in European History (2nd ed., Princeton, 
1953); Z. Kostelski, The Yugoslavs (New York, 1952); H. Kohn, Pan- 
slavism, Its History and Ideology (South Bend, 1953), and D. Cizevsky, 
Outline of Comparative Slavic Literature (New York, 1953). 

Russia: There is a new edition of B. Pares, History of Russia (New 
York, 1952); and of G. Vernadsky, History of Russia (3rd ed., New 
Haven, 1951). Cf. also V. Gitermann, Geschichte Russlands (3 vols., 
Zurich, 1949); R. Hare, Pioneers of Russian Social Thought (Oxford, 
1951); N. V. Riasanovsky, Russia and the West in the Teaching of the 
Slavophiles (Cambridge, Mass., 1952); W. H. E. Johnson, Russia's edu- 
cational heritage (Pittsburgh, 1950), a general history of Russian educa- 
tion. A. Etdinger and J. Gladstone, Russian Literature , Theater , and Art, 
a Bibliography of Wor\s in English 1900-1945 (London, 1946); C. Mor- 
ley, “Alexander I and Czartoryski” in Slavonic and East European 
Review, 1947; U. Pope-Hennesy, A Czarina's Story 1817-1820 (London, 
1948); R, E. Pipes, “The Russian Military Colonies 1810-1831” in /. of 
Mod . Hist., 1950; C. de Griinwald, Vie de Nicolas I (Paris, 1946); G. K. 
Loukomski, La vie et les mceurs en Russie de Pierre le grand & Lenine 
(Paris, 1952), and S. R. Tompkins, The Russian Mind from Peter the 
Great through the Enlightenment (Norman, 1953). 

Poland: B, E. Schmitt, ed., Poland (Berkeley, 1944); M. Kridl and 



others. The Democratic Heritage of Poland an Anthology (London, 
1944); and H. Frankel, Poland , the Struggle for Power 2772-2939 (Lon- 
don, 1946). 

Spain: A. R. Olivera, Politics , Economics and Men of Modern Spain 
1808-2946 (London, 1946); de Lema, Spain since 1815 (Cambridge, 
1920); R. Altamira, Historia de Espana , 5th ed., 4 vols. (Madrid, 1935). 

Scandinavia: B. J. Hovde, The Scandinavian Countries 2720-286 5, 
2 vols. (Boston, 1943), supplants all other English works. 

Belgium: Y. Schmitz, Guillaume l et la Belgique (Paris, 1946); H. 
Haag, Les origines du cathohcisme liberal en Belgique 2789-1839 (Lou- 
vain, 1950); R. Demoulin, La revolution de 2830 (Brussels, 1950); and 
C. Bronne, La Belgique 2824-2830 (Brussels, 1948). 

Egypt: Rifaat Bey, The Awakening of Modern Egypt (London, 1947). 

General: J. Droz and others, Restaurations et revolutions , 2815-72 
(Paris, 1953), a new volume in the admirable French series, Clio , with 
an up-to-date bibliography. As with other volumes in this series, Clio , 
no scholar can be without it. 


Political and Social Thought: J. Bowie, Politics and Opinion in the 
Nineteenth Century (London, 1953), excellent; B. C. Shafer, National- 
ism , Myth and Reality (New York, 1955), now best introduction to 
whole subject of nationalism; L. Foucher, La philosophic catholique en 
France , 2800-2880 (Paris, 1956); M. H. Quinlan, Historical Thought of 
Bonald (Washington, 1953); H. S. Reiss, ed., Political Thought of the 
German Romantics, 2793-2845 (Oxford, 1955), useful collection of texts; 
A. Stoll, Savigny (3 vols., Berlin, 1927-39); M. Bouvier-Ajam, List 
(Monaco, 1953); F. E. Manuel, The New World of Saint-Simon (Cam- 
bridge, Mass., 1956), a magistral study; M. Cole, Owen (Oxford, 1953); 
M. L. Pearl, Cohbett (Oxford, 1953); and H. M. Pollard, Pioneers of 
Popular Education, 2760-2850 (London, 1956). 

On Economic and Social Conditions in Western Europe: R. Schnerb, 
Le XIX e siecle (Paris, 1955), a brilliant attempt at reinterpretation of 
nineteenth-century history with emphasis on applied science and on 
economic conditions; H. Ardant, Les crises economiques (Paris, 1948); 
then three works that summarize the most recent research on the Eng- 
lish Industrial Revolution: T. S. Ashton, An Economic History of Eng- 
land: the 28th Century (London, 1955), W. H. Court, Concise Economic 
History of Great Britain (1750 to present) (Cambridge, 1954), and F. 
A. Hayek, ed., Capitalism and the Historians (Chicago, 1954), es- 


pecialiy Part One; W. O. Henderson, Britain and Industrial Europe , 
1750-1870 (Liverpool, 1954), important; L. H. Jenks, The Migration 
of British Capital (New York, 1938); A. L. Dunham, Industrial Revo- 
lution in France , 1815-48 (New York, 1955), valuable synthesis; C. 
Pouthas, La Population frangaise, 1800-1850 , (Paris, 1956); J. Briquet, 
Perdiguier (Paris, 1955); and E. Heckscher, Economic History of 
Sweden (Cambridge, Mass., 1954). 

Literature, Art, Music, and Science: M. Mack, ed., World Master- 
pieces , Vol. II (New York, 1956); R. Wellek, History of Modern 
Criticism , VoL II, The Romantic Age (New Haven, 1955), a brilliant 
revaluation; J. Wain, ed., Contemporary Reviews of Romantic Poetry 
(English) (London, 1953); R. Tymms, German Romantic Literature , 
I 795 ' I $ 3 ° (London, 1954), excellent; S. M. Vogel, German Literary 
Influences on the American Transcendentalists (New Haven, 1955); 
A. Colquhoun, Manzoni (New York, 1955); L. Portier, Manzoni 
(Paris, 1956); F. Marceau, Balzac et son monde (Paris, 1955), a basic 
study; A. Prioult, Balzac avant la comedie humaine , 1818-29 (Paris, 
1956); A. Maurois, Leha, The Life of George Sand (New York, 1955), 
and by the same author, Olympio, The Life of Victor Hugo (New York, 
i 955), two definitive biographies; }. L. Sal van, “Recent French Criti- 
cism on Romanticism” in Symposium , 1947; W. Lednicki, ed., Mic- 
\iewicz in World Literature (Berkeley, 1956); H. E. Bowman, Belin- 
s\i , 1811-48 (Cambridge, Mass., 1955); M. and R. Hoffman, Gogol 
(Paris, 1946); E. H. Zeydel, Tiec\ (Cincinnati, 1935); L. Hautecourt, 
Histoire de V architecture classique en France , Vol. IV, 1815-1848 (Paris, 

1955) ; J. A. Westrup, Introduction to Musical History (London, 1955), 
brief but penetrating study; J. Chantavoine, Le romantisme dans la 
musique (Paris, 1955), excellent; G. W. Dunnington, Gaus, Titan of 
Science (New York, 1955); and H. de Terra, Humboldt , 1769-1859 
(New York, 1955). 

International Diplomacy: J. Droz, Histoire diplomatique , 1648-1919 
(Paris, 1952), the best brief account; P. Renouvin, L! Europe des na- 
tionalites, 1815-71 (Paris, 1954) in series Histoire des relations Inter- 
nationales, very useful; M. Bourquin, Histoire de la Sainte- Alliance 
(Geneva, 1954); H. Kissinger, A World Restored, 1812-22 (London, 

1956) ; K. Griewank, Der Wiener Kongress, 1814-15 (2nd ed., Leipzig, 
1954); S. Fischer-Galati, “Nature of the Holy Alliance” in History, 
1953-54; A. Lobanov-Rostovsky, Russia and Europe, 1789-1878 (2 vols., 
Durham and Ann Arbor, 1949-52); F. E. Bailey, British Policy and 
the Turkish Reform Movement, 1826-53 (Cambridge, Mass., 1942); 
and D. Dakin, British and American Philhellenes, 1821-33 (London, 
1956) ; both important for Balkan history. 



Britain: R. J. White, From Waterloo to Peterloo (London, 1950); 
C. Petrie, Lord Liverpool (London, 1954); N. Gash, Politics in the 
Age of Peel (London, 1953), a basic work; S. Maccoby, English Radi- 
calism, 1786-1832 (London, 1955); J. A. Reynolds, Catholic Emancipa- 
tion Crisis in Ireland , 1823-1) (New Haven, 1956); A. Aspinall, ed., 
Three Early Nineteenth Century Diaries (London, 1952); R. K. Webb, 
British Woi \ing-Class Reading , 17)0-1848 (London, 1955), a pioneer- 
ing study; C. K. Brown, History of the English Clergy, 1800-1)00 
(London, 1953); A. T. Hart and Carpenter, The Nineteenth Century 
Country Parson (Shrewsbury, 1954); L. E. Elliott-Binns, The Early 
Evangelicals (London, 1953); and F, C. Gill, The Romantic Movement 
and Methodism (London, 1954). 

France and Low Countries: G. de Bertier de Savigny, La Restaur a- 
tion, 1814-30 (Paris, 1955), a first-rate synthesis; P. Bastid, Les institu- 
tions pohtiques, 1814-48 (Paris, 1954); L. Madelin, Fouche (Paris, 1955); 
}. Foucassie, Villele (Paris, 1954); P. Lesourd, Forbin-Janson, 1783- 
1844 (Paris, 1947); R. Limouzin-Lamothe, de Quelen, archeveque de 
Paris, Vol. I, 1815-30 (Paris, 1954); and G. Pradalie, Balzac, historien, 
la societe de la Restauration (Pans, 1955); C. Bronne, La Belgique , 
1814-30 (Brussels, 1848); and H. R. Wright, Free Trade and Protec- 
tion in the Netherlands, 1816-30 (Cambridge, 1955), excellent work. 

Italy and Spain: J. P. Trevelyan, Short History of the Italian People 
(new ed., London, 1953), a good manual; A. Albrecht-Carrie, Italy 
from Napoleon to Mussolini (New York, 1950); G. Salvemini, Mazzini 
(London, 1956); and F. Bruguera, Histoire contemporaine d’Espagne, 
178^1)30 (Paris, 1955). 

Germany: Two good short histories are: R. Flenley, Modern Ger- 
man History (1500-1939) (London, 1953) and K. Pinson, Modern Ger- 
many (since 18th cen.) (New York, 1954); F. C. Sell, Die Tragodie 
des Deutschen Liberalismus (Stuttgart, 1953), masterly treatment; A. 
Monchoux, UAllemagne devant les lettres franqaises, 1814-33 (Fans, 
1953); F. G. Eyck, “Political Theories and Activities o£ German Youth, 
1814-19” in Journal of Modern History, 1955; W. M. Simon, Failure 
of the Prussian Reform Movement, 1807-1) (Ithaca, 1955); J. Droz, 
Le liberahsme rhenan, 1813-48 (Paris, 1940); and G. P. Gooch, “Ranke’s 
Interpretation o£ German History” in Studies in German History (Lon- 
don, 1948). 

Aspects of Middle Europe: J. Sztachova, ed., Mid-Europe, a Selective 
Bibliography (New York, 1953); O. H. Halecki, History of Poland 
(New York, 1 956); M. Kridl, A Survey History of Polish Literature 
and Culture (New York, 1956); M. Kridl, ed., Anthology of Polish 
Literature (New York, 1956); P. Super, The Polish Tradition (Lon- 



don, 1939); R* F. Leslie, Polish Politics and the Revolution of 1850 
(London, 1956), basic: M. Petrovich, “Rise of Modern Serbian Historiog- 
raphy” in Journal of Central European Affairs, 1956; and T. Papa- 
dopoullos, Greek Church and People under Turkish Domination (Brus- 
sels, 1952), important study. 

Russia: D. S. Mirsky, Russia , a cultural history (rev. ed., London, 
1943); B. Pares, History of Russia (new ed., London, 1955); M. T. 
Florinsky, Russia , a history and interpretation (2 vols., New York, 1953); 
two biographies by C. de Grunwald, Alexandre 1 (Paris, 1956) and 
Nicholas I (New York, 1955) full of minor errors but still useful; M. 
Kukiel, Czartorys\i , iyjo-1861 (Princeton, 1955); and N. V. Rias- 
anovsky, Russia and the West in the Teaching of the Slavophiles (Cam- 
bridge, Mass., 1952). 


Some General Works: K. $. Latourette, Christianity in a Revolutionary 
Era, Vol. I (New York, 1958); M. Bourquin, Histoire de la Sainte Al- 
liance (Paris, 1954); A. Birnie, Economic History of Europe (7th ed., 
London, 1957); and C. Singer and others, History of Technology, Vol. 
IV, 1550-1850 (Oxford, 1958). 

Political and Social Thought: G. G. Iggers, ed., The Doctrine of Saint- 
Simon, an Exposition, 1828-1 829 (Boston, 1958), and by the same author, 
Cult of Authority, Political Philosophy of the Saint Simonians (The 
Hague); E. Durkheim, Socialism and Saint-Simon (Yellow Springs, 
1958); E. L. Eisenstein. First Professional Revolutionist, Buonarroti 
(Cambridge, Mass., 1959); C. Leetham, Rosmini (London, 1957); and 
J. N. Findlay, Hegel, a Reexamination (London, 1958). 

Britain: T. K. Derry and Jarman, Making of Modern Britain, 1560-1950 
(New York, 1956); R. J. White, From Waterloo to Peterloo, 1815-1819 
(London, 1957); D. Read, Peterloo (Manchester, 1957); R. G. Cowherd, 
Politics of English Dissent, 1815-48 (New York, 1956); Q. J. Brose, 
Church and Parliament, 1828-60 (Stanford, 1959). 

France: J. Collins, The Government and the Newspaper Press in France, 
1814-81 (Oxford, 1959); P. Moreau, Le Romantisme (new ed., Paris, 
1957); S. Mellon, Political Uses of History, Historians in the French 
Restoration (Stanford, 1958); P. Leuilliot, “The Industrial Revolution in 
France” in Journal of Economic History, 1957, and by the same author, 
“Notes sur l’histoire economique et sociale de la France sous la Restaura- 
tion” in Revue de synthese, 1953. 

Germany: E. J. Passant, Short History of Germany, 1815-1945 (Cam- 



bridge, 1959); M. R. Falk, History of Germany (since 1500) (New York, 
1957); J. A. Hawgood, Evolution of Germany (London, 1955); W. O. 
Henderson, The State and the Industrial Revolution in Prussia, 1740-1870 
(London, 1958); T. E. Hamerow, Restoration , Revolution, and Reaction 
in Germany, *1815-71 (Princeton, 1958); L. Krieger, German Idea of 
Freedom (New York, 1957); A. Monchoux, UAllemagne devant les let - 
tres franqaises , 1814-1835 (Toulouse, 1953); A. Guerne, ed., Les roman- 
tiques allemands (Bruges, 1956); G. Bianquis, La vie quotidienne en 
allemagne a Vepoque romantique (Paris, 1959); and A. Gillies, Faust, an 
Interpretation (London, 1957). 

Southern and Eastern Europe: A. Colquhoun, The Risorgimento (Lon- 
don, 1958); G. Salvemini, Mazzini (Stanford, 1957); D. Sinov, History 
of Hungary (London, 1959); B. Gille, Histoire economique et sociale de 
la Russte (Paris, 1949); A. Stender-Petersen, Geschichte der Russischen 
Literatur (2 vols., Munich, 1957); M. Raeff, Sperans\y (The Hague, 
1957); M. Zetlin, The Decembrists (The Hague, 1958); W. Lednicki, 
Pushkins Bronze Horseman (Berkeley, 1955); L. Stavrianos, Balkans 
Since 1453 (New York, 1958); C. M. Woodhouse, Gree\ War of Inde- 
pendence (London, 1957); and S. A. Larrabee, Hellas Observed, Amer- 
ican Experience of Greece, 1775-1865 (New York, 1957). 


Acte Additionnel, 129 
Adam, 202 

Adams, John Quincy, 171 
Administration, 2-7 
Adrianople, Treaty of, 250, 261, 265 
Agents provocateurs, 6, 119, 122, 150, 

“Agricultural Revolution,” 43-44 
Agriculture and the Agricultural Classes, 
24, 38-46 

Aidc-toi, le cicl t’aidcia, 231, 264 
Aix-la-Chapellc, Conference of, 37, 133, 
141, 160-161 

Akkerman, Convention of, 250, 258 
Alexander I, 2, 5, 6, 12, 20, 43, 52, in, 

113, 116, 117, 140, 152, 160, 161, 

162, 163, 164, 165, 167, 168, 172, 

173, 174, 175, 176, 177, 178, 180, 

253 . 254 , 2 57 
Alficn, 107, 145, 146 
Algerian Expedition, 265, 266 
All Pasha, 247, 253, 254 
Ampere, 186 

Ancicn Regime, 1, 6, 13, 30, 63, 70, 76, 
128, 129, 191, 228, 290 
Anglican Church, 16-18, 54, 288 
d’Angoulcme, Due, 87, 151, 156, 169, 
170, 232 

A nn ah Universal di Statistic a, 206 

Anti-Slavery Movement, 18, 88, 1 14-115 

Antologia , 145, 206, 246 

Apostolicos, 285 

Arakcheiev, 5, 177, 178 

Archeology, 188-189 

Aristocracies, 7-10 

Arndt, 97, 142 

Arnim, 190 

Artois, Comte de, see Charles X 
Athenee, 94, 102 
Auber, 202, 273 
Augsburg Gazette, 196 
Austen, Jane, 17, 25 

Austria, 136-T37, 238-239 
Avagadro, 186 
V Avenir, 207, 280 
d’Azeglio, 198 

Baader, 53, 54 
Baden, 96, 138, 277, 278 
Baer, 187 
Bakewell, 44 
Ballanche, 54, 73 
Balzac, 28, 105 

Bankers and Banking, 28, 29, 30 

Barante, 191 

Barbizon School, 200 

Baimgs, 28 

Bane, 201 

Ba\aria, 138, 237, 277 
Bazar d, 152, 213 
Beethoven, 202, 203 
Belgium, 270-276 
Bell, 1 01, 103 
Bellini, 203 

Bcntham, 18, 83-84, 88, 90, 94, 95, 96, 
99, 102, io6, 120, 123, 179, 216, 217, 
218, 237 

Beranger, 99, 205, 227, 230 

Beichet, 146, 198 

Beresfoid, 156 

Berlioz, 194, 196, 202, 203 

Bern, Due de, 151, 152, 163, 224 

Berzelius, 186 

Bible Societies, 12, 20, 22. 178 

Biedermeier, 31 

Blackstone, 64, 65, 83, 287 

Blake, 199 

Blanc, Louis, 210 

Bockh, 188 

Bohme, 51, 53 

Boieldieu, 202 

Boisseiee Brothers, 189 

Bonald, 56, 64, 67, 70, 72-74, 80, 228 

Bonapaitism, 152, 184, 204, 205, 279 


INDEX 3 21 

Bonington, 198 
Bopp, 69, 190 

Bordeaux, Due de, 151* 268 

Borne, 7> 63, I4 2 > *94 

Bosio, 201 

Bossuet, 56, 70, 74 

Bourgeoisie, defined, 23-24, 27-28 

Bourmont, 234 

Brandes, 56, 60-61 

Brentano, 59, 19° 

Brodzinski, 107, 176 

de Broglie, Due, 10, 290 

de Broglie, Maurice, 272 

Brougham, 102, 103, 120, i 7 *j 20 5> 2I 5 

Bunsen, 19, 189 

Buonarroti, 142, 150, 278 

Burdett, Sir Francis, 119? 21 6 

Buret, 210 

Burke, 61, 64, 65"66, 67* 7 °j 7 2 > 73» 
78, 83 

Burnouf, 190 

Burschenschaften, i 39 " i 4 i j * 76> *79> 

235, 242, 277 

Byron, 62, 123, 148, i49> *94> *95» *97> 

Calderari, 15 

Canning, George, 5, 161, 168, 169, *7°» 
171, 216, 220, 221, 226, 258, 279, 285 
Canning, Stratford 259 
Canosa, i44> *66 
Canova, 200, 201 
Cantu, 192 

Capodistrias, 161, 167? 2 53> 2 57> 


Carbonari, France, i5 2 > 20 3> 2 5 2 
Carbonari, Italy, i5> * 6 > i47' I 48, 158, 
159, 166, 245* 2 5 2 > 2 8 ]E 
Carlsbad Decrees, I4i-i4 2 > I 49> 2 34> 2 35 
Carlyle, 24, 61, 89, 125 
Carnot, Sadi, 186 
Caroline, Queen, 215-216 
Cartwright, Major, 120 
Castlereagh, 3, 4> I3CI » II2 > II 3» II 5» 
11 6, 117, 120, 127, 160, 161, 162, 
163, 164, 165, 167, 168, 170, 216, 
220, 279 

Catholic Association, 222 

Catholic Church, 10-16, 206-207, 280, 
see also Ultramontamsm 
Catholic Emancipation, 17, 62, 222-223, 

Cato-Street Conspiracy, 121, i5°> I ^3 
Cavaignac, 267, 270 

Cavour, 44, 89, H5> I 45> I 47» 206, 2 34> 
2 47 

Cayla, Madame du, 224 
Chambre Introuvable, 130, 131, *3 2 > 233 
Chambre Retrouvee, 226 
Chamisso, 194 
Champollion, 188, 189 
Charles Albert, 159, 160 
Charles Felix, 2, 160, 245, 246 
Charles X (Comte d’ Artois), 5> *3> I 5* 
71, 127, 128, 151, 2 °7> 226, 228 > 22 9’ 
231, 232, 233, 234, 263, 266, 267, 
268, 269, 287, 291 

Charter of 1814 (modified in 1830), 21, 
90, 99, 117, 127-128, 132, 138, 162, 
203, 204, 224, 226, 227, 233, 234, 
264, 266, 267, 270, 271, 275, 285* 
290, 291 . 

Chateaubriand, 6, 52, 53, 56-57> 63, 

189, 191, i93> 196, 198, 20I > 207, 
230, 231, 242 
Chaumont, Treaty of, no 
Chios, Massacre of, 255 
Chlopicki, 283 
Clapham Sect, 18, 88, 95 
Cobbett, 18, 4*> 9°'9*> Il8 > I20 > I2I> 
123, 287 

Code Napoleon, 13? 35> I2 °> x 4°» i 73 
Codrington, 259 
Coke, 44 

Coleridge, 61, 62-63, 79 
Colletta, 165 

Combination Acts, 35, 3^> 2x8-219 
Comte, 80, 213 
Conciliators, 146, I97> 2 °6 
Concordats, 11, 12, 99> 2 7 2 
Confalonieri, 146, 166, 240 
Confederation of Europe, cf. European 
Alliance, Quadruple Alliance, and 
Quintuple Alliance 
Congregation, i5> 2 3°> 2 33 
Consalvi, 12, 16, I44> 2 45 
Consistoriah, 15 

, 22 


Constable, 198 

Constant, 52, 93-94, 95, 9$, 99, 129, 
*33, 174, *79, *94 

Constantine, Grand Duke, 173, 174, 175, 
180, 283, 284 

Constitution, American, 64, 90, 95, 179, 
2 55» 269 

Constitution of 1831, Belgium, 90, 275, 

Constitution of 1791, France, 90, 204 
Constitution, German States, 91-92, 138, 

Constitution, Poland, 91, 173 
Constitution of 1822, Portugal, 156, 157 
Constitution of 1812, Sicily, 144, 158 
Constitution of 1812, Spain, 90, 134, 
*35, 153, 154, *55, 156, 158, I59> 
160, 179 

Constitutionnel, 133, 230, 264 
Continental Blockade, 27, 143 
Cooper, James Femmore, 9 
Cornelius, 199 
Corn Laws, 124, 221 
Corot, 200 

Courier, 99, 228, 230 
Cours Prevotales, 13 1 
Cousin, 79, 93, 95, 96, 99, *02, 152, 
192, 194, 203, 225, 232, 235 
Creile, 185 
Creuzcr, 190 
Cuoco, 69-70 
Cuvier, 187 

Czartoryski, 5, m, 172, 173, 283 

Dahlmann, 96-97 
Dalton, 1 86 

Dante, 145, 146, 147, 193, 206 
Danubian Principalities, 243-244, 253, 

Darwin, 187 
Daunou, 84, 94-95 
David, Louis, 200, 201 
David d’ Angers, 194, 201 
Davy, 186 

Dccazes, 5, 131, 133, 151, 224 
Decembrists, 22, 89, 95, 178-182, 197 
Delacroix, 194, 196, 200, 202 
Denmark, 114, 197 
Destutt dc Tracy, 84, 94-95, 179, 204 

Diebitsch, 260, 261, 284 
Diet, Frankfort, 138, 235 
Dobrovsky, 107, 241, 242 
Doctrinaires, 93, 94, 95 
Dellinger, 13 
Dombasle, Mathieu cle, 44 
Dom Miguel, 157, 285-286 
Dorn Pedro, 157, 285, 286 
Don Carlos, 16, 170, 285, 286 
Donizetti, 203 

Drapeau Blanc , 132, 133, 264 
Dumas, 195 
Dumont, 84 
Diirer, 59, 199 

Ecole des Chartes, 191 

Edinburgh Review, 123, 196, 197, 206 

Eichendorff, 194 

Eldon, 5, 120, 220 

Elgin, 188 

Emancipation of peasants, 38, 41 ff. 
L’emancipazione italiana, 278 
Emerson, 61 

Emigres, 6, 41, 61, 65, 71, 72, 73, 126, 
127, 128, 19 6, 227, 230 
Enclosures, 38-40 
Enfantin, 213 

England, 118-126, 150, 215-224, 286- 

Enlightenment, 9, 10, 11, 15, 49, 50, 
58, 68, 71, 74, 75, 82, 83 
European Alliance, 22, no, 1x7, 118, 
13 3, 160-T72, 217, 254, 257, 262, 279 
Evangelicals, 17-18, 95, 1x5, 2x1 
Everett, Edward, 9 
Exaltados, Spain, 154, 155 
Eynard, 208 

Factory Acts, see Working Classes 
Faraday, 186 
Faunel, 191 
Febronianism, 10, 12 
Ferdinand I, Naples, 144, 158, 159, 166, 

Ferdinand VIT, 2, 16, 134, 135, 152, 
153, 154, 169, 170, 285 
Fichte, 53, 58, 74, 76, 77, 80, 103, 105 
Final Act of Vienna, 1815, 1x4-115 
Fine Arts, 198-201 


3 2 3 

Finland, 114, 172-173 

Fodere, 210 

Follcn, 140, 141 

Fontaine, 201 

Foscolo, 107, 146, 147 

Fossombroni, 145 

Fouche, 130, 131 

Fourier, mathematician, 186, 187 

Fourier, social theorist, 209, 212 

Foy> 133 , 213, 225 

France, 126-134, 150-152, 224-234, 263- 

Franchet d’Esperey, 15 
Francis I, Austria, 2, 13, 238 
Francis I, Naples, 246 
Francis IV, Modena, 16, 145, 245, 278, 

Fraunhofer, 1 86 
Frayssinous, 70, 225, 228, 230 
Frederick William III, 2, 5, 6, 19, 79, 
103, 113, 138, 234 
Frederick William IV, 68, 69, 79 
Freemasons, 134, 135, 147, 149-150, 155 
French Revolution, 1, 6, 9, 10, 11, 41, 
46, 55, 56, 59, 60, 62, 63, 66, 69, 77, 
82, 89, 103, 142, 152, 204, 205, 214 
Fresnel, 1 86 
Friedrich, 199 
Fries, 97 
Frobel, 103 

Gaj, 245 
Gall, 187 

Gallicanism, 10, 12, 13, 70-71 
Gauss, 185, 187 
Gautier, 202 
Gay-Lussac, 185, 186 
Geijer, 197 
Gendebien, 274 

Gentz, 6, 64, 66-67, 73, hi, 115, 235, 

George IV, 2, 215, 216, 223, 260, 276, 

Gericault, 200 

Germanic Confederation, 137-142, 234- 
237, 276-278 
Giordani, 107, 146 

Globe, 152, 195, 196, 203-204, 263, 264, 

Godwin, 90, 148 

Goethe, 2, 49, 51, 56, 187, 188, 193, 
194, 202, 203, 236, 239, 242, 244 
Golitsin, 178 

Gorres, 13, 59-60, 105, 138, 142 
Gothic Revival, 59, 201 
Greek Revolution, 149, 165, 167, 168, 
182, 207-208, 220, 250-262 
Gregoire, Abbe, 133 
Gregory XVI, 280 
Grey, Earl, 287, 288 
Grillparzer, 194 

Grimm Brothers, 69, 105, 190, 244 
Guizot, 21, 93, 95, 96, 102, 191, 192, 
203, 225, 231, 232, 265 
Gutzkow, 63, 194 

Hall, Charles, 210 
Hallam, 192 
Haller, 64, 67-68, 140 
Hambach Festival, 277 
Hampden Clubs, 120, 121 
Hanover, 97, 114, 137, 237, 277 
Hardenberg, 5, in, 138, 161, 235 
Hazlitt, 56, 62, 91 
Hegel, 68, 74, 77-79, 80 
Heine, 63, 137, 194, 202, 277 
Herder, 51, 69, 76, 78, 104-105, 10 6, 
107, 176, 192, 194, 239, 241 
Hernanij 196 
Herold, 202 
Herzen, 182 

Hetaina Philike, 252-253, 254 
Heyduks, 247 
Historical Studies, 190-193 
Hodgskin, Thomas, 210 
Hoffmann, E. T. A., 193 
Holy Alliance, 21, 22, 52, 117-118, 178, 
182, 194, 205, 207, 216, 279 
Hospodars, 253 
Huet, 200 

Hugo, 57, 63, 195, 196, 201, 202, 205, 

Humboldt, Wm. von, 97, 189 
Hume, 216, 218, 239 
Hundred Days, 116, 129 
Hungary, 239-241 
Hunt, Henry, 121, 122, 124- 125 
Hunt, Leigh, 123 

3 2 4 


Huskisson, 5, 205, 216, 217, 21S, 220, 

Ibrahim Pasha, 25 6, 258, 259 
Illyrianism, 245 
“Industrial Revolution” 29-30 
Ingres , 200 

Inquisition, 12, 134, 144, 156 
Ireland, 41, 222-224 
Irving, Washington, 9 
Italy, 142-148, 157-160, 165-167, 245- 
247, 278-281 

Jahn, 97 

Janissaries, 21, 248, 249, 257, 260 
Jesuits, 12, 13, 15, 70, 71, 99, 107, 144, 
145, 175, 178, 213, 228, 229, 230, 
231, 232, 268 

John VI, Portugal, 156, 157 
Joseph II, 13, 239, 241 
Josephism, 12, 13 
Jouffroy, 152, 203 
Journal des Debats, 133, 230, 264 
July Ordinances, 5, 266, 267, 268 
Jungmann, 107, 242 
Jung-Stilling, 51-52, 53 

Kant, 49, 51, 53, 74, 75-76, 80 

Karadzic, 107, 244, 249 

Kara George, 249, 250 

Karamzin, 107, 174, 192 

Katona, 239, 240 

Kazinczy, 239 

Keats, 194 

Kisfaludy, 197, 239 

Kleist, 59, 193 

von Klenze, 201 

Klephts, 247 

Kolcsey, 239 

Kolldr, 107, 108, 147, 194, 197, 241, 

Kolowrat, 238, 242 

Kopitar, 107, 244 

Koraes, 251-252 

Kotzebue, 140, 141 

von Kriidener, Baroness, 52, 53, 117 

La Bourdonnaye, 133, 234 
Lacordaire, 74, 207, 280 

Lafayette, 152, 171, 268, 269, 277, 278, 

Laffitte, 28, 205, 231, 264, 265, 268, 279 
Laharpe, in, 162 

Laibach, Conference of, 159, 165, 167 

Lamarck, 187 

Lamaitine, 57, 63, 148, 195 

Lamennais, 70, 74, 207, 273, 280 

Lancaster, 101, 179 

Law of the Double Vote, 224 

Law of Indemnification, 21, 227 

“Law of Justice and of Love,” 228, 230 

Law of Primogeniture, 21, 228, 230 

Law of Sacrilege, 21, 227-228, 230 

Lawrence, Sir Thomas, 198 

Le Chapelier Law, 35 

Lelewel, 176, 192, 283 

Lenau, 194 

Lenoir, 189 

Leopardi, 107, 146, 197 
Leopold of Saxe-Coburg, 261, 276 
Leroux, 210 
Lessing, 51, 239 

Liberal Catholicism, 74, 206-207, 280 
Liebig, 185, 186 
List, 85, 86, 89, 205, 236 
Liszt, 202 

Liverpool, Lord, 5, 120, 150, 165, 21 1, 
216, 220 

London Protocol, 261 
London, Treaty of, 258, 260 
Louis XVIII, 2, 3, 5, 12, 13, 22, 25, 70, 
71, 117, 127, 129, 130, 131, 133, i34> 
I35> i7°> 224, 226, 229, 230, 

233, 270 

Louis, Baron, 13 1 

Louis Philippe, 268, 269, 270, 271, 275, 
276, 279, 282, 284, 285, 289 
Louvel, 151 
Lubecki, 175 
Luden, 191 

Ludwig I, Bavaria, 13, 188, 189, 262 
Lukasinski, 175 
Lyell, 187 

Maanen, 273, 274 
Maasen, 236 
Macaulay, Thomas, 85 
Mahmud II, 21, 248, 256, 257 


3 2 5 

Mainz Commission, 141-142, 235, 278 
Maior, 243 

Maistre, de, 56, 60, 64, 66, 70, 71 ff., 
78, 80, 83, 93 
Manuel, 133, 525 
Manzoni, 63, 70, 146, 197 
Marmont, 267, 268 
Martignac, 232, 233 
Martinez de la Rosa, 84, 96, 155, 285 
Marx, 79, 80, 210 
Matitsa, 244 

Mazzini, 63, 70, 82, 104, 106, 147, 148, 
204, 206, 246, 247, 281 
Mechanics’ Institutes, 102, 210 
Mendelssohn, 202 
Menotti, 279 
Merimee, 195 

Merode, Comte de, 206, 274 
Methodists, 17, 18, 20, 50, 51, 54 -55, 

Metternich, 3, 4, 6, 7, 13, 20, 22, 26, 
59, 66, 67, hi, 112, 113, 1375 138, 
139, 141, 142, 144, 146, 152, I59> 

160, 161, 162, 163, 164, 1 65, 167, 

168, 172, 178, 207, 208, 232, 234, 

235, 238, 240, 242, 251, 253, 254, 

255, 258, 259, 266, 279, 289, 291 

Michaud, 191 
Michel, 200 

Michelet, 106, 182, 192 
Mickiewicz, 63, 107, 176, 194, 197 
Mignet, 95, 96, 192, 204 
Military Colonies, Russia, 177-178 
Mill, James, 218 
Milos Obrenovic, 250 
Miron Vos, Encyclical, 280 
Missionaries in France, 14-15 
Missolonghi, 256-257 
Moderados, Spain, 154, 155, 15* 
Mohler, 13 
Moniteur , 229, 266 

Monitorial or Mutual System, 101, 179 
Monod Brothers, 20 
Monroe Doctrine, 171 
Montalembert, 74, 207, 280 
Montesquieu, 56, 82, 93, 9^ 97> *79 
Montlosier, 23, 70-71, 230 
Montmorency, 169 
Moravian Brethren, 50, 51, 52, 58 

More, Hannah, 18 
Monke, 194 

Muhammad All, 247, 256 

Muller, Adam, 13, 67 

Muller, Otfried, 189 

Muller, Wilhelm, 194, 202, 207 

Munchengratz, Convention of, 289 

Music, 201-203 

Mutual-benefit societies, 34 

Naples, 1 14, 144, I 57 '* 59 > 165-166, 246 
Napoleon, 1, 7, 11, 12, 15, 43, 82, 94, 
103, 116, 118, 126, 127, 129, 130, 
134, 136, 138, U3> *47> 205, 224, 

National , 264, 267 

National Guard, France, 231 

National Patriotic Society, Poland, 175 

Navarino, 256, 259 

Nazarenes, 59, 199 

de Nemours, Due, 2 76 

Nesselrode, 111, 161 

Netherlands, 114, 270-276 

New Lanark, 103, 21 1 

Ney, 130 

Niccolini, 107, 145, 146, 198 
Nicholas I, 180, 181, 257, 258, 260, 
265, 2 66, 282, 283 
Niebuhr, 69, 189, 193 
Niemojewski Brothers, 96, 174 
Norway, 114, 197 
Novalis, 11, 51* 53, 58, 193 
Novosiltsev, 173, 174, 17 5, 176 

Oberlin, Jean Frederic, 52 
Obradovic, 244, 249 
O’Connell, 206, 222, 223 
Oehlenschlager, 194, 197 
Oersted, 186 
Ohm, 186 

Orange, Prince of, 274, 276 
Ordinances of 1828, 232-233 
Orthodox Church, 20-21, 107, 247, 248, 

Ostrolenka, 283 
Otto I, Greece, 262 
Ottoman Empire, 247-262 
Overbeck, 199 



Owen, 37, 103, 120, 209, 210, 211, 212, 
213, 239 

Oxford Movement, 63 

Paganini, 202 
Paine, 83, 90 
Pal&cky, 107, 192, 242 
Paley, 17 

Palmerston, 216, 275, 289, 290 
Pan-Slavism, 108, 241-243 
Papacy and Papal States, 11, 12, 13, 22, 
114, 144-145, 159, 245-246, 279, 280 
Paris, First Treaty of, no, in, 114, 116 
Paris, Second Treaty of, 116 
Patriarch of Constantinople, 247, 248, 
253> 2 54 

Peasants, see Agriculture and Agricultural 

Peel, 5, 124, 216, 217, 218, 220, 223, 

Pellico, 107, 146, 147, 166, 197, 246 
Pepe, 157, 165, 166, 278 
Percier, 201 

Pener, Casimir, 265, 279, 280 
Pertz, 191 
Pestalozzi, 102- 103 
Pestel, 95, 179, 1 81 
Peterloo Massacre, 124-126 
Petits seminaires, 228, 229, 233 
Phanariotes, 247 

Phiihellenism, 63, 184, 207-208, 254- 
255, 282 

Philology, 188, 190, 242 
Philomathians, 176, 179 
Philosophic Radicals, England, 84, 90, 
see Bentham 
Photius, 5, 20, 177, 178 
Piedmont, 145, 159-160, 166, 246 
Pietism, 19, 50-53, 55 
Pius VII, 11, 16, 1 18 
Place, Francis, 18, 36, 210, 218 
Poland, 113, 114, 173-176, 282-285 
Police, 6, 112, 1 19, 143, 182, 238-239, 

Polignac, 5, 15, 233, 234, 263, 264, 266, 
267, 268 

Political Register, 121, 123 
Poor-Relief, 36, 40 
Portugal, 156-157, 285-286 

Potocki, 175 

de Potter, Louis, 273 

Pozzo di Borgo, in, 126, 129, 175 

Pradier, 201 

Presbyterians, 17, 18 

Prussia, 97, 1 14, 138-139, 142, 235-237 

Public Finance, 30 

Pushkin, 9, 63, 89, 197 

Putting-out system, 25-26, 29, 32, 40 

Quadruple Alliance, 117, 118, 160-172, 
217, 257 

Quinet, 106, 194, 204 
Quintuple Alliance, 133, 161-172, 217, 

Quotidienne, 133 

Radilescu, 244 
Rajic, 249 

Ranke, 148, 193, 244 
Rask, 190 
Rauch, 201 
Raumcr, 191 
Raynouard, 190, 191 
Recamier, Mine., 52 

Reform Bill of 1832, 17, 62, 79, 121, 
275, 286-289 
Reichstadt, Duke of, 279 
Remusat, 190 

Republicanism, 95, 96, 140, 152, 153, 
179, 184, 204, 205, 264, 267 
Re veil, 20 
Rhigas, 251-252 

Ricardo, 85, 95, 124, 205, 210, 21 1 
Ricardian Socialists, 209, 210 
Richelieu, Due de, 5, 13 1, 132, 133, 151, 
161, 224, 233 
Riego, 153, 154, 1 55, 170 
Robinson, 216 
Rogier, Charles, 274 
Romagnosi, 70, 206 
Romanticism, 55-63, 104, 193-203 
Rosicrucianism, 51 
Rossetti, 166, 198 
Rossini, 202, 203 
Rothschilds, 28, 29 
Rotteck, 96, 192, 277, 278 
Rousseau, 56, 60, 68, 72, 73, 76, 77, 
82, 93, 102, 103, 179, 204, 209 


3 2 7 

Royer-Collard, 25, 93, 95, 133, 265 
Riickert, 97, 194, 202 
Rude, 201 
Russell, John, 216 
Russia, 172-182* 

Russo-Turkish War, 260-262 
Ryleiev, 179, 181, 183 

Sacy, Sylvestre de, 190 
Safafik, 107, 241, 242 
Sainte-Beuve, 195, 201, 204 
Saint-Hilaire, 187 
Saint Petersburg, Protocol of, 258 
Saint Simon, 80, 87, 212, 213 
Samt-Simonians, 152, 204, 209, 212, 
213, 292 

San Fedists, Italy, 15, 16 
Sand, Karl, 1 40-141 
Santarosa, 160, 166 
Savigny, 64, 68-69, 7 °> 7$, 96, 190 
Say, 85, 89, 94, 209 
Schadow Brothers, 199 
Schadow, the Elder, sculptor, 201 
Schelkng, 19, 53, 74, 76-77 
Schinkel, 201 

Schlegel, Friedrich, 13, 53, 58-59, 105, 
188, 189, 190, 199 
Schlegel, Wilhelm, 105, 189, 195 
Schleiermacher, 19, 53, 54, 58, 105, 142 
Schlosser, 96, 192 
Schmalz, 5, 140 
Schubert, 202 
Schumann, 202 
Science, 184-188 
Scott, 4, 61, 189, 191, 194, 198 
Scribe, 25, 273 
Sebastiani, 27 9 

Secret societies, 121, 135, 139-141, 142, 
147-148, 149-150, 151-152, 158, 159, 
1 66, 178-182, 203, 235, 245, 252-253, 
277, 278, 283 
Selim HI, 248 
Seraphim, 20 
Serbia, 244, 248-250 
Shelley, 123, 148, 194-195, 207, 208 
Sidmouth, 5, 125 
Sismondi, 192, 195, 209, 210 
Six Acts 1819, England, 5, 125-126, 141, 
149, 150 

Six Acts, Germany, 278 
Slavophils, 20, 77, 108 
Smith, Adam, 67, 84, 85, 89, 94, 97, 

Socialism, 79-81, 184, 208-214 
Society of the Exterminating Angel, 
Spain, 15, 16 
Sofroni, 107 
Southey, 54, 62 
Spa Fields, 122 

Spain, 134-135, 152-156, 167-170, 285- 

Speenhamland Plan, 40 
Spence, 122 
Speransky, 5 

de Stael, Madame, 49, 56, 61, 103, 185, 
195, 196, 204 
Stahl, 69 

Stein, 5, 97, in, 142, 191 
Stendhal, 4, 63, 195, 205 
Stenzel, 19 1 
Sweden, 114, 197 
Switzerland, 114, 281-282 
Szechenyi, 88, 107, 240-241 

Talleyrand, in, 112, 113, 127, 130, 131, 
228, 264, 268, 269, 275 
Tariffs and Tariff Policies, 27, 45, 206, 
218, 221, 236-237 
Tegner, 197 
Temps , 267 
Ternaux, 25, 205, 231 
Test and Corporation Acts, 221 
Thaer, 44 
Thierry, 152, 192 

Thiers, 92, 95, 96, 192, 204, 264, 268, 

Third Section, 182 
Thistlewood, 121, 150 
Thompson, William, 210 
Thorwaldsen, 201 
Thunen, 44 

Ticknor, George, 9, 135, 185 
Tieck, 53, 59, 190, 193, 199 
Times , London, 123, 162 
Tories, 119, 120, 122, 152, 203, 216, 
217, 220, 286, 287, 288, 289 
Trade-unionism, 34 ff. 

Transportation, 26-27